Reawakening
by Aqua Lion
Summary: 350 years after Lotor's defeat, one of Voltron's former pilots is brought out of stasis to return the lions to service. But the final battle is still haunting Voltron, and if the new Force intends to protect their future, they will have to face the mysteries of the past...
1. Ancient History

Reawakening  
Prologue: Ancient History

 _This is my take on the Voltron: Panthera Force concept, the original pitch for the show that became Voltron Force. It is a next-gen fic, but does use versions of Daniel, Vince, and Larmina; while I've drawn heavily from VF for their personalities, they shouldn't really be considered the same characters. (Other than their names and appearances, Bruno and Imam are basically OCs.) I still used several events from VF as a bit of a framework.  
_ _So many thanks to my beta Sean Montgomery for not murdering me as I probably deserved... repeatedly... heh._

* * *

"On this day, three hundred and fifty years ago, the Battle of Galra took place to end the Doom Wars.

You all know the story. The mighty Voltron led the assault, with the full backing of the Alliance fleet led by Sky Marshal Holgersson himself. The target was the Dread Palace on Galra itself, a world of such power and evil it was believed to be a myth, the world where the Haggarian Quasar was born and commanded. Halfway between Alliance space and the Drule homeworlds, the task force found this world of legend, and struck with their full fury.

Voltron's assault was unstoppable, a wonder to behold. Dozens of robeasts fell before its power, and countless Drule soldiers tried and failed to cease its advance. But in time the pilots were forced to abandon the machine, in order to enter the complex where the occult scientist Maahox harnessed the Quasar's power. As they battled through his traps and armies, ending the threat of haggarium for all time, Drule reinforcements barred their return to the Defender of the Universe.

And yet, they fought on. Battling with the might of lions themselves, the Force brought honor to their names and glory to the Alliance, unstoppable in the face of overwhelming odds as they approached the final fortress of the enemy.

When the reality of his defeat became clear, the mad King Lotor played his final card, setting off an explosion which obliterated the Dread Palace and everything around it. He made his intentions clear, letting his enemies know of their impending demise; the Yellow and Green Lion pilots charged in bravely, hoping to stop the blast, but ended up being caught within it.

Lotor's final act of spite did not succeed. Though he killed two lion pilots and destroyed the bulk of the Alliance fleet, his few remaining forces were destroyed as well, leaving none left to carry on his cruelty. And despite being badly damaged, Voltron and its remaining pilots stood tall amongst the ashes.

Through their courage and sacrifice, the threat of the Drule Empire was finally silenced once and for all. Thus was Voltron sealed away in victory.

Thus, this day, we honor its legend."

* * *

Sky Marshal Amelia Kasun stood on the platform as the speech ended, sweeping her gaze over the assembled cadets. They looked bored, and why shouldn't they? After listening to Captain Morton drone on, _she_ was bored too. But they could deal with it. This ceremony was necessary.

Voltron was ancient history, and they all knew it. What they didn't know, because they didn't listen to Morton's other lessons either, was that history always repeated itself. What they didn't know was that as they assembled in the shadow of the Castle of Lions, history was waking beneath them.

They would know soon enough.

* * *

"Three hundred and fifty years." The speaker's broad form filled the Umbral Throne, a dark blue-skinned Drule with haughty features to match his ornate armor. His golden eyes glowed with contempt, with hatred. "Three hundred and fifty years to this day, we were thwarted from our rightful conquest, from the lush worlds of the Alliance. Banished back to these miserable rocks."

Everyone kneeling before Emperor Kargil was deadly silent, the courtiers and nobles watching their lord with some trepidation. Everyone knew what he'd been preparing. The only question had been the when, and it seemed that question would be answered now. A fitting date. Yet this date also raised the specter most of them would have rather avoided. The _why_. Several bristled at the reminder of disgrace, of crushing defeat at the hands of humans. It still stung.

A few also bristled at the idea that the Drule homeworlds were only 'miserable rocks', but those few wouldn't dare to voice such things. Not after one look at the madness which lit their emperor's eyes.

"Today we right this wrong. Today we move against the Alliance once more. We will take what is rightfully ours, and destroy all that stands in our way. For the glory of the Empire!"

"For the Empire!" his courtiers echoed. Some yelled it with pride and fury. Some murmured the words with no conviction whatsoever. But every single one repeated it. They didn't dare remain silent.

* * *

The recovery had been flawless, as well it should have been. Cryostasis was fairly basic these days. Granted three hundred years ago the science had been much less refined, but the primitive pod was functional enough. Given the importance of this moment, the Alliance's top experts on the science had been placed in charge of the awakening. The subject had been left to sleep off the initial disorientation. Now the small team filed into his room to see if he'd fully regained his senses yet. The sooner he could get to his mission, the better.

"Sir?"

Two brown eyes fluttered open, peering at the scientists curiously. Definitely alert. "I'm awake, I'm awake. Hard to be anything else in these lumpy med wing beds. Some things never change, huh?" He sat up, flipping his hair, auburn with just enough gray shot through to betray him as the old veteran he was. "So when am I? ...And where, I guess?"

The head of the science team stepped forward, saluted. "We are beneath the Castle of Lions on Arus, sir. The year is 3058; it's been three hundred and thirteen years since you were placed in stasis."

"Hmm. That's not so bad." His eyes darted around the room, then down to himself, frowning at the skin-tight stasis suit he was wearing. Even in his sixties his body was fit and trim; his _body_ wasn't the problem. "Well? Where is it? We had a deal, you know. I mean, me and your great-great-great-grandwhatevers had a deal."

A slight chuckle escaped one of the scientists; another rolled her eyes. They'd all been informed of the deal, of course, but most of them hadn't really taken it seriously. Which wasn't to say they hadn't fulfilled their part of the bargain...

With a brief nod from his boss, the most junior of the scientists approached, presenting the newly awakened man with an ancient leather jacket.

"There we go!" With a broad grin and a mischievous spark in his eyes, Lance McClain slid off the bed and pulled the jacket on. "Okay. Now that we've got the _important_ stuff done, let's get this show on the road."


	2. The Lion Sleeps

Reawakening  
Chapter 1: The Lion Sleeps

* * *

It took five scientists, two officers, and about a dozen random aides and whatever-elses to escort Lance from the depths of the Castle to the upper floors. He wasn't quite sure what to think about that. Wasn't this supposed to be a secret? They'd told him when he went under it was going to be a secret. Maybe secrecy standards had changed over the last three centuries. Maybe _words_ didn't mean what words were _supposed_ to mean anymore.

Or maybe it was just that the Alliance grapevine was as wonderful as ever.

The corridors were familiar and utterly alien at the same time. He recognized the corners, the doorways, the general layout of the place. But everything else, including the damn _walls_ , had changed. He traced a hand curiously along the tile, feeling just the slightest bit of give in what seemed to be solid metal. "What is this stuff?"

"That's Flexplate," one of the officers piped up—Captain Parker, a reedy man who as best Lance could tell was _supposed_ to be his handler. Unlike all the others just claiming they were. "It's stronger than titanium, able to bend and bounce back surprisingly well on impact. Better than rubber, better than steel. It's been around for a hundred years or so."

 _Interesting_. His assumption about Parker's role came from the fact that the man fielded most of his questions, and sounded the least patronizing when doing it. If he was wrong in the assumption, he'd be asking for this guy to be assigned. "They make ships out of it?"

"No sir. The microstructure requires gravity to keep its strength. But it's a standard for military facilities."

That was a shame... maybe. As cool as fighters made of this Flexplate stuff would undoubtedly be, it gave him a strange feeling of vindication that the future couldn't do _everything_. But of course they couldn't, and they knew it themselves. That was why he was here.

He recognized where they were going, or at least what it had once been. The diplomatic wing. Which made plenty of sense if the Sky Marshal was really here to personally welcome him back. "How much of the castle is even left? The old castle, I mean."

"Only the catacombs, sir." One of the younger scientists took this one, and was practically tripping over her words in her excitement—and no doubt her own feet soon, as she paid more attention to Lance than to where she was walking. "Tradition dictates we keep the architectural parameters in place, but the materials have been replaced wholesale several times. And of course the internal fixtures undergo constant revision. I was on the team that last reworked the hand-to-hand simulators, they're now capable of generating a full—oof!" Before she had a chance to start bragging about sim capabilities, she finally went face-first into a corner. It had been inevitable, really.

Though just for the sake of appearances, Lance gave the aide who'd stuck his leg out in front of her a mildly disapproving glare. ...Mildly. "I bet it's fascinating, but you may want to watch your step. Castle layout hasn't changed in three hundred years, you've got no excuse!"

She blushed redder than his lion and fell silent.

Before anyone else could try their hand at impressing him, they stopped at a security checkpoint. Rather than just passing through this one, Parker crossed his arms and eyed the rest of the group reproachfully. "Don't you people have actual jobs to be doing? Unless you want to explain to the Sky Marshal why you're drawing all this attention to the _secret_ recovery project, you might want to get back to them."

It took about ten seconds for the whole lot of them to scatter and disappear.

Lance chuckled a little. "The big boss is that scary, huh?"

"Only by reputation." Parker shrugged as they moved through the checkpoint, entering a short hallway with a single door at the end of it. "Useful reputation to have, though—I imagine you'd know something about that?"

"Pfft, me?" Lance waved that off with a smirk. "Hardly. I made it a point of pride to be _very_ accessible. You never know where you'll find good groupies."

Parker cocked his head. "...You do live up to the stories, sir."

It was hard to tell if that was a compliment or not. "I try!"

Whatever it had been, his handler didn't seem inclined to press the issue, approaching the door and knocking twice before keying in a code on the security panel. "The Sky Marshal's been waiting for you, of course... there we go." He stepped back as the door slid open, revealing a small office with a large desk and not much else... except its occupant.

"Ah, there you are." The woman behind the desk stood as they entered, and Lance blinked back a flicker of surprise. It wasn't exactly because she was female. It wasn't exactly because she was obviously alien. It was just that lacking any other context, even knowing it was ridiculous, his mental image every time the Sky Marshal was mentioned was of someone who looked pretty much like Sven.

To put it mildly, she did _not_.

He studied her carefully as she approached, intent on figuring _something_ out about the future before it was handed to him on a Flexplate platter. Her skin was marble white, and her silver hair hung over her shoulders in three thick braids; its iridescent sheen gave her away as a Skaerite, though the lack of talons on her hands meant she was probably half human. And considering the Skaerites had been a reluctant affiliate race three hundred years ago, even recognizing what she was didn't make the future all that much less weird.

It did not escape his notice that she was also pretty hot, but he supposed that wasn't relevant.

"Sky Marshal Amelia Kasun." Her handshake was swift and efficient; she was a far cry from the awestruck sycophants he'd been dealing with so far. Lance liked her immediately, and was also pretty certain he'd dislike her within the next half hour. Having an entourage _had_ been cool while it lasted.

"I guess there's not much need for me to introduce myself, huh?"

"Not hardly, Commander McClain. Welcome to the year 3058. There's a great deal of work to be done here; if you've fully recovered from your hibernation, it would be best if we begin."

"Sure, let's get to it." He noticed Parker slipping out the door behind him. Now was where the really top secret stuff began, apparently. "What's first on the list?"

"Truthfully?" She tilted her head. "This is, as they say, your show. I can brief you on the current situation, but if we knew where to begin with awakening Voltron we wouldn't really have needed to awaken _you_."

...Yeah, that _had_ kind of been the point, hadn't it? But Lance wasn't too sure where to begin himself. They'd put him under for this, but it wasn't as if he had a 'how to bring your robot lions back to life' checklist that had been stashed down there with him. "I'm pretty sure I know what the briefing will be. Bad guys are coming, we need Voltron, the security of the universe is in our hands, let's do this."

Kasun's eyebrows arched briefly. "Yes, something like that."

"Then let's worry about the specifics later." He paused for a moment, thinking about when he and the others had arrived on Arus.

 _Oh geez, that was almost four hundred years ago, wasn't it? ...Okay. Focus._

Well, where had Coran started? He'd had a whole advanced castle control center hidden away, he'd had the lions in place, what he hadn't had yet were... "Let's start in the crypts, then."

After the Battle of Galra, Voltron had been critically damaged. It wasn't just physical damage, though that _had_ been pretty impressive. The final explosion had sapped Voltron's power, sapped it in a way that not even the Alliance had known the full extent. And try as they might, the Force hadn't been able to restore the lions to their full strength. The decision had been made to seal them in their dens, to give the mystical energies there time to recharge the great machines, and the keys had been returned to King Alfor's tomb.

At least that was how things had been when he'd gone under, but the Sky Marshal looked confused. "The crypts, Commander?"

"The keys are there, aren't they?"

"Ah..." She hesitated briefly. "No, actually. That plan had unforeseen complications."

Surely she didn't think she was going to get away with that. "Such as?"

Kasun made a face. "Space mice."

... _Of course_. He grinned, which didn't really seem to improve her mood any. "New rodents carrying on the family tradition, huh? Probably shouldn't have surprised anyone. What's the new plan?"

"The keys were removed from the tomb, and have been passed down by the heads of the military ever since. Security was still paramount, of course. Nobody else in the Alliance has even been kept privy to their existence, and each Sky Marshal chooses a new hiding place." She moved to the wall and slid one of the framed charts aside, opening a hidden compartment behind it.

 _Well that's original._ Lance started to say something to that effect, but paused when she simply reached into the compartment and pressed a few buttons. A click echoed somewhere in the room and she moved on, this time moving a framed award certificate—something about exceptional valor in the Third Battle of Elvinon II.

Lance had never even heard of Elvinon II.

This time Kasun appeared to be turning some dials inside the new compartment, mumbling numbers under her breath. Another click, another secret compartment. This one was behind a painting of a mountain stream that looked like she'd stolen it from a cheap hotel. In all honesty he hoped that was exactly where she'd gotten it; it would make her so much more _interesting!_

Probably not.

Rather than a click, whatever was inside that compartment gave a series of beeps before she moved on. This was getting ridiculous. Lance bit back a disbelieving snicker, only because he was pretty sure he would need it more later. The next stop was another award, written in some flowery pretentious script that was thoroughly impossible to read. Lance had no idea what it was, though a few suspicions immediately presented themselves in his mind.

 _Amelia Kasun, four time Academy hide-and-seek champion. Bet on it._

Next she moved to the office's thermostat. By now Lance was all over this, of course, and wasn't remotely surprised when she entered a few numbers and instead of changing the room's temperature, a panel popped open beneath it. What did surprise him was that instead of yet another hidden lock, she pulled out a small pentagonal box, carved of white stone with a five-colored star etched in its top.

She turned back to him. "As I was saying."

Despite knowing what she held now, despite his own jolt of excitement, he couldn't help the first comment that came out. How could he possibly help it? "Dude. Was that for real? Did you get that setup from a B-grade detective holo?"

She scowled, but her expression couldn't hide the blush suddenly creeping up her pale cheeks. "...That isn't relevant."

"You know, 'yes' would've been way fewer syllables." He grinned. "Don't worry. I know it's kind of a disadvantage for a Sky Marshal to have a personality, so your secret's safe with me!" He turned his attention to the box, deflecting her glare. "Kind of surprised to see you went to all this trouble though. Who made the box? It's not the average military junk."

"Sky Marshal Holgersson had it commissioned after the original storage plans fell through. He felt it was important to show proper reverence." Kasun raised an eyebrow, but couldn't keep the curiosity from her voice, somewhat belying her annoyance. "Did you tell _him_ he had no personality?"

Lance chuckled. "Regularly."

"I suppose that ought to make me feel better." She shook her head and opened the box, revealing five small discs that gleamed, gemlike, even in the office's dim light. "...I admit, I had hoped I wouldn't have to be the first Sky Marshal to open these."

Well, given the _why_ that was probably understandable. "I'll just choose not to be offended by that."

"Appreciated." She straightened, stepping forward and holding the keys out to him. "Here you go."

Lance took the keys and studied them, just taking it all in for a moment. It had been so long since he'd seen them... the time he'd been in stasis didn't exactly count, but even before then. The keys had been locked in the crypts even before they'd finished sealing the lions in their dens.

His hand closed around the red one, feeling the warmth in the metal. The presence. For a moment he fell silent and just let it soak in.

 _Much too long..._

"Commander McClain?"

"...Yeah, sorry. Just distracted. Let's move on, shall we?"

Kasun gave him a strange look, but didn't say anything about it. Probably for the best. She wouldn't understand—the normal, _boring_ military had never understood. "Of course. You'll want to see the control room, I trust."

Now it was going to get interesting. "You better believe it."

Nod. "Then let's go."

Parker wordlessly rejoined them at the checkpoint, and Lance found himself walking slightly ahead of the two that should've been guiding him. If the castle layout was the same then he knew this, he knew it so well... he'd walked this path a thousand times. This was where he really belonged.

Neither of them even attempted to make conversation. They were probably too busy trying to keep up.

"Hold on," Kasun said finally as they reached a large bulkhead where the main entrance used to be. "They should have programmed your biometrics into the castle's systems when they brought you out of stasis, you'll have alpha level security authorization, but it won't take effect until system rollover tonight."

Lance decided to just pretend he'd followed all that—he was pretty sure "full clearance kicks in later" would've been quicker—and stepped aside to let her open the door.

 _Whoa_...

Control was _different_ , all right. The center of the room was dominated by a three-dimensional holomap of the Denubian; the control panels surrounding it told him what he was really looking at was a tactical display system of a complexity they'd only been able to dream of when he went under. There was a huge flat-panel command screen and console behind the tactical display, about where the old main console had been.

Taking those in for a moment, his eyes were drawn off to the left almost instinctively. And there it still was—a snarling red lion's head and large number "2" painted over a thick bulkhead door, though a door that had clearly been sealed shut for years... or centuries.

"This room has been kept one of the Alliance's most carefully guarded secrets," the Sky Marshal stated after giving him a few minutes to take it all in. "But it's been kept on the priority list for upgrades, as per the original agreement. What you're looking at is the finest command technology we have available."

Lance gave an appreciative whistle. "It's a great setup. Keith wil..." He abruptly fell silent, realizing what he was about to say. _Keith will love it._ But Keith wouldn't love it. He was gone, long gone.

Keith was gone. Allura was gone. Sven was gone.

Everyone he'd ever known was gone.

He'd been perfectly aware of that, of course. Understood when he agreed to go under stasis that this was what he would be waking up to. The only question had been whether it would be thirty years, or three hundred, or three thousand... he'd known. He just hadn't expected the reality to bite quite so _hard_.

The Sky Marshal and her aide had both politely pretended not to notice the lapse, which was an excellent choice on their part.

"...Okay." His voice still cracked a little bit and he cleared his throat, trying to force it to behave. "Guess you may as well tell me about the bad guys we're using all this against."

Nod. "We've detected massive fleet movement from the Drule homeworlds. No formal declaration of war, but the Drules have never been much for those niceties." Lance scowled but didn't comment; he knew that _all_ too well. "The Empire has remained in a rebuilding phase for the last three centuries—Lotor did a great deal of damage, and made his people rightfully wary of war. But the current Emperor, Kargil, has been on a much more militant footing since he took the throne." The Sky Marshal shook her head. "We knew it was inevitable that he'd make a move, but didn't expect it to happen so _quickly_."

"It seems he rushed matters along so that he could launch his invasion on a significant date," Parker broke in. "That being said, his forces are powerful and he has the capacity to field robeasts, and they're heading straight for Arus."

"Seems pretty clear cut," Lance agreed, halting at one of the command consoles. "Love what you've done with this place, but seriously, whose idea was it to paint an even _bigger_ target on the Castle of Lions? We didn't get enough attention with Voltron?"

A brief hesitation as Parker looked at his boss; Kasun tilted her head. "Ah, that would have happened after you went under, of course. It was actually Queen Allura's decision, along with Commander Kogane. An attempt to safeguard Voltron's resting place. Turning the Castle and its military resources into a training complex, rather than an active combat facility, was meant to make it draw less enemy attention than more immediate threats." She shrugged. "We've seen wars since; nothing as organized or powerful as the Drules, but credible threats. The subterfuge has worked thus far."

He nodded. It made sense, and it was the sort of thing Keith and Allura would come up with. "Other wars. Elvinon II?"

That startled her. Maybe she hadn't expected him to actually be reading all her shiny awards, and who could blame her? They _were_ kind of boring. Another military thing. "Ah, yes, actually. The Elvons were the greatest threat we've faced since the Drules... they had spies deep within the Alliance, and still bypassed this facility for much less significant garrisons."

"Fair enough." Lance took one more long look around the control room, then turned away from the console. Suddenly he didn't want to be here anymore. This room, like everything else about the castle, was stark and lifeless. Empty. It needed a Voltron Force, and that was what he was here for, wasn't it? "So now that the tour's over, let's get to work. You have some pilots for me?"

Kasun and Parker exchanged looks. "We have candidates. Choosing the best of them is part of _your_ mandate."

Well, yeah, there was that. "Excellent! Let's go see."


	3. Rally the Troops

Reawakening  
Chapter 2: Rally the Troops

* * *

The training complex wasn't part of the castle proper; what had once been a peaceful field was now filled with buildings, stretching from the edge of the forest on one side of the castle to the mountains on the other. "Urban sprawl really _is_ a menace," he muttered as he followed Kasun outside.

She gave him a look that made it clear she was intentionally ignoring that comment. "There are two training units at this facility. The Sixth Cadre, our deep space scouting and reconnaissance program, is the primary. But it's the other operation that's relevant to your purpose here."

Lance wondered what the Alliance considered 'relevant'. "Combat pilots, I'm guessing?"

"Something a bit more specialized. The most promising students out of all training branches are placed in a fast-track program for the lions. Commander Kogane wrote the basics of the curriculum himself. They don't know they're being guided in such a manner, of course; the program has a reputation for simply turning out well-rounded soldiers. We call this elite cadre the Panthera Squadron."

"Subtle."

She rolled her eyes. "We _are_ on the grounds of the Castle of _Lions_ , Commander. I assure you if there are any students dreaming of a place at the controls of Voltron, they are nothing but that: baseless dreams. And even that's rather unlikely." She led him into the largest of the buildings and down a long hallway. "It's been three and a half centuries, you must realize. Voltron's prestige has faded. The highest echelons of Alliance command know the truth, but to most students, the lions are nothing but another distant memory in their textbooks."

"Right." Lance's expression darkened. Just slightly. "Even though Voltron is sitting right under their noses?"

"Which you know perfectly well we can't tell anyone." Kasun shook her head. "Voltron is ancient history, Commander, and will remain so until it rises again."

It was probably better if he didn't respond to that, though he'd have liked to. He'd always thought fame was so _cool_. The Voltron Force had been a big deal. Every kid in the quadrant had learned about their exploits. With his newfound perspective it wasn't cool at all, just irritating. To know that all his team's struggles and pain and sorrow were now reduced to a few exam questions, to be blown off by cadets who didn't care...

Yeah. This whole 'adjusting' thing was _way_ harder than he'd imagined.

"Okay." He covered the annoyance with his most businesslike tone, or at least attempted to, and motioned to the door at the end of the hallway. "So what've we got here?"

"Sensor analysis." Kasun led him to a window overlooking rows of computers inside. A handful of students were hunched over the consoles. "We can't train them on the exact setups of the lions, of course. But we ensure they're well versed in every modern system we have access to, as well as some ancient and even some theoretical." She gave him a look. "Not glamorous, but quite crucial, as you know."

Her tone didn't sound much like she believed he knew that. What kind of newbie did she think _he_ was?

"Duh. Much as I always made fun of him..." Lance paused for a moment, swallowing another surge of emotion. "...Pidge could do things with a cargo hauler's sensors that none of us could've made happen from castle control itself. Don't you worry. I've got full appreciation for what a good monitor geek can do." He grinned. "Every ace still needs to know where to go to start shooting stuff down."

She snorted. Lance was getting the distinct impression that the Sky Marshal didn't like him very much. But she was just going to have to deal with that; she would hardly be the first officer who didn't approve of Lance McClain.

An odd sensation in his hand interrupted that thought. A sort of warmth creeping up his fingers, not entirely unlike Red Lion's presence, but different enough to be jarring. He looked down and saw Yellow Lion's key trembling slightly in his grasp, as if it could leap right through the window and put an end to its centuries of disuse.

 _Huh... okay then._ "...You, uh... you see something you like, Yellow?"

One of the students in the sensor lab abruptly caught his attention. A tall, nearly skeletal alien with turquoise skin and glowing eyes. He was sitting at a far monitor and completely absorbed in his work. Why had Lance noticed him so suddenly, especially when he had far more pressing matters at hand? He turned his attention back to the yellow key.

Almost immediately his focus returned to the student, and that was when he understood.

"Okay, Sky Marshal. That one in the corner, the bluey-green one. Who is he? And for that matter, _what_ is he?"

She blinked, startled by the question. In fairness maybe it had been a little abrupt. "That's Imam. He comes from the Drule Protectorate."

 _Drule Protectorate? Wait, what?_

The whole tour so far had been making it clear how different things were in this future, but those words still made Lance's jaw drop. A Drule? A student at the Galactic Training Academy, in the very shadow of the Castle of Lions, was a Drule? He stammered for a few moments, looking for a reply that would be at least marginally intelligent. "He... he, uh, he doesn't look much like a Drule."

 _That wasn't what you were looking for, hotshot._

"Ah, right. You wouldn't know of his kind. Imam is what's known as a Ghostwalker. Their own rituals have twisted them into something of an offshoot race." She frowned. "They began as a small, secretive sect within the Drule Empire. One might even call them a cult. Their beliefs put them in touch with the spirits of the dead, and what they claim to have learned from such contact is that war and conquest are irrelevant—that what the dead most regret is when they failed to have peace and happiness in their lives."

Lance arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't expect Drules to come up with that sort of touchy-feely mumbo-jumbo."

"You aren't alone." Sigh. "The Ghostwalkers and some sympathizers fled their homeworlds to escape persecution, and eventually wound up here, seeking asylum. In over a century they've been nothing but stalwart allies. Their culture gives them a particular skill for both selfless heroism, and the sort of detached logic which can be valuable to a military unit, but quite uncomfortable for most other races."

"Uh huh." He looked at the key in his hand again; Yellow was possibly the last lion he would've expected to pick someone with _that_ particular skillset. But the lions wanted what the lions wanted, and he wasn't going to question it. Much. "Put his name down."

Parker, who'd apparently decided the best thing he could do was remain silent, pulled out a datapad. "Done, sir."

For her part, the Sky Marshal gave him a very odd look. "You... don't want to know anything else about him before making that decision, Commander? We can pull his records easily..."

Oh. Right. "Uh, I'll want to see those later, definitely. But I'm not exactly making the decisions right now."

She looked at him, then looked at the keys in his hand, and seemed to understand... sort of. "I see, I think. Shall we continue then?"

Lance looked back through the window, sweeping his gaze over the other cadets, waiting to see if any of the other keys was going to perk up. But nothing happened. "Yeah, let's go."

* * *

Apparently there was some method to where Kasun was leading him; one more hallway led them back outside into the shadow of a much larger building. "Hangar Four," she identified it as they entered. "This one is reserved for the Panthera Squadron. This way." She led him into a large, open room filled with a couple dozen large metal pods.

He knew what _those_ were. Flight simulators. Now this he could get into!

Curiously enough, sims didn't seem to have changed a whole lot in three hundred years—the insides of the pods probably had, but from the outside they were comfortingly familiar. He watched the monitors for a bit, gauging what he was seeing. The kids weren't too terrible, for kids. They weren't very good either, but hey, how could they be? They'd probably had some pencil-pusher running their lessons. Whipping them into shape would be his job, apparently, but it was a job he was _exceptionally_ qualified for.

"Tell me about the fighters."

"These are Gyrfalcons. They replaced the Peregrine as our primary strike fighter about ten years ago; they trace back to an experimental fighter line in your time that I believe you may have heard of." She raised an eyebrow. "The Skyfire."

 _Oh. Well then_. That _was_ kind of cool. "Yeah, might've heard of it." He'd been a lead consultant on the project, and the Sky Marshal's expression said she knew that perfectly well. "So those deathtrap Fractals finally went the way of the dinosaurs?"

"Their current iteration is the Vertex light bomber, but they're quite rare. The Gyrfalcons are in use here because they're the closest thing to the lions we have, in terms of controls and movement profiles, though obviously they don't approach their weapon or armor capacity."

"Obviously." Lance crossed his arms, watching one of the Gyrfalcons seeming to panic as a new wing of simulated enemies swept in. He'd noticed this one before; it seemed unsteady even by cadet standards, and that was pretty odd for an elite training cadre, wasn't it? Now it struggled to steady itself, clipping one of its own wingmates in the process, sending both craft into a fiery death spiral.

Kasun sighed. "Not again."

"Again? This happens often with your prize cadets?"

"With that cadet, anyway." The Sky Marshal pointed to one of the pods. "Larmina. She hates flying with a passion."

The door to the pod she'd indicated slid open, admitting a lithe girl with strawberry-blonde hair, dyed blue at the tips, and a cadet uniform modified well past any regulations: ripped sleeves, bare midriff, and three earrings on one ear. She gave the pod a good kick and Lance arched an eyebrow. He liked her attitude, but... "I don't even know where to start, so let's go with the obvious. You put someone who hates _flying_ into your fast-track program for _flying_ the lions?"

"Politics," Kasun retorted, rolling her eyes. "As I told you, the true nature of the Panthera Squadron is well hidden. Larmina's parents are prominent nobles who want to be able to show off their daughter like a trophy. They pressured us nonstop to ensure that she would be placed with our elite." Sigh. "Her passion is martial arts, so we came to an agreement. She tutors struggling students in hand to hand combat, and tolerates the flying lessons. We give her parents good reports and, more importantly, keep her away from them."

Well _that_ was all wonderful. Lance supposed it was good to know that some things never changed; politicians had been a pain in the ass before, and they were still a pain in the ass. Not really what he'd have chosen, if he had to pick an area of consistency, but it was something.

He watched Larmina pace, fuming, and gradually realized he had no idea why he was paying more attention to the cadet who'd met fiery death than the ones who were still flying. That was about when he realized his hand was tingling again.

... _Um_.

Blue Lion's key was giving off the same soft hum as Yellow's had, more felt than heard, subtly but insistently guiding his attention. To Larmina. The cadet who hated flying. "Surely not, Blue," he muttered, though even as he said it he realized it wasn't such a stretch. She wouldn't be the first Arusian nobility that Blue Lion had made a respectable pilot out of. Still, coming into it outright hating the job seemed like a little much? Allura had at least _wanted_ to fly.

Larmina continued pacing around her pod, shooting smoldering glares at the ones that were still functioning, as another pod on the far side of the room slid open and admitted... something that looked rather like a giant six-eyed wombat, Lance had no idea. All six of those eyes were glaring impressively as it stormed up to the girl and started railing at her in a series of chirps and roars.

"Oh dear." Kasun gave a resigned sigh. Parker had started to step forward, but she put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. "Don't bother, let him see."

Before Lance could ask _see what_ , the wombat-thing was on its ass on the floor and Larmina was storming for the far exit.

 _I like her. I'm totally going to hate training her, but I like her._ "Put her down."

* * *

None of the remaining keys took any interest in the cadets in the maintenance class on the other side of the hangar, nor astrophysics and navigation two buildings over. Lance was deeply amused by this curriculum Keith had apparently set up, given how heavily specialized each member of their own Force had been. Hell, Lance himself had never really mastered maintenance beyond how to properly use a screwdriver.

He kept thinking he'd have to mock Keith for it later, and he kept mentally kicking himself when he realized it wasn't going to happen.

 _Damn it..._

Shaking it off, he followed Kasun to the next class, one being held outdoors. Hand to hand combat. About twenty kids were paired off on a grassy field, and they seemed to represent about as many different martial arts, giving what he could recognize as a reasonably well-structured class the initial appearance of a chaotic melee.

"How many students are there in this Panthera Squadron, anyway?"

"Three hundred, currently. We generally take the top one percent of the top one percent from the various academies, along with a few special cases."

"Political cases."

"Yes, mostly that." She looked over the field, then back at him. "Do you see anything of interest here?"

Almost as soon as she asked it, another key began quivering slightly in his hand. Green's this time, guiding his eyes to a pair near the edge of the field. A slim Hydran was facing off against some kind of huge, feline creature. The feline was the one his gaze ultimately settled on—taking in the pale orange fur, green tattoos all over his arms and face, determined but wary expression as he studied an opponent who couldn't be a third of his size.

"Matter of fact, yes. Cat dude."

Parker fielded the question this time, since Kasun was busy rolling her eyes again. "That's Bruno. Everyone calls him Bruno, anyway; his real name's about twelve syllables. He's an Ailurian. His people only joined the Alliance about twenty years ago, and he's part of their first generation to have grown up with that membership as a fact of life. Quite a few of his peers have flooded the Academy in the last couple of years, but he's been by far the most skilled. They have a lot of hope riding on him."

Lance nodded, frowning. Bruno didn't really scream 'Green Lion' to him at all; so far the lions were one for three on making choices that made the slightest bit of sense. "And I'd be willing to bet he's going to crush that poor Hydran's skull in a matter of seconds?"

"You'd be wrong," Kasun countered. "Don't be fooled by his size. Ailurians are deeply in tune with nature, masterful at stealth and camouflage, and can move in ways they don't seem to have any right to. As a rule they prefer precision to brute strength, and Bruno is no exception."

Well when she put it that way, Green's interest started to make a little more sense... though he should probably stop trying to judge the lions' current choices by what _his_ team had been. "Okay, you've got me intrigued."

The cat man and his opponent squared off with low, respectful bows. It was the Hydran who struck first, barely out of his bow before he lunged, and rather than block the kick coming at him Bruno twisted in a way nothing that big _ever_ should've been able to. His attacker sailed unimpeded over him and he slapped a huge paw into the small of his back, dropping the Hydran to the ground with a startled cry.

Green's key pulsed again.

"Not bad..."

The fight continued for another few minutes, and he never saw Bruno initiate a single attack. It was all reflexes and reactions, countering every strike perfectly. Precision over power, just as the Sky Marshal had said.

"How's he fly?" The question was more to suit his own curiosity than anything, because he very much doubted the key in his hand was going to reconsider regardless, but after that display he really just wanted to _know_.

"Like a dervish. Nobody can touch him."

Grin. "Mark him down."

* * *

The next two classes, conditioning and gunnery, were a bust. Truth be told, Lance had fully expected Red to find a candidate in marksmanship class, and was almost a little disappointed when it didn't.

Almost.

He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea of handing his old lion over to some cadet... or really anyone. Oh, he knew he was going to have to. His job was to choose a new team, one that could carry on Voltron's legacy without him having to hold their hands for the rest of _his_ life. It was going to suck, but he was going to have to do it, so he might as well hope Red would pick a worthy successor... at that thought a bit of warmth ran through him.

"Yeah, I know, Red. I have total faith."

"Pardon?"

He hadn't realized he'd said that out loud, and waved it off. "Uh, nothing."

Kasun just shrugged; maybe she was starting to accept the weirdness that came with this whole operation. If she did she'd be way ahead of the game. Or maybe she was just like most other officers he'd dealt with, and simply accepted he wasn't going to give her any suitable explanations.

Another flicker of warmth shot through him, but this time it was unfamiliar. Disconcerting. Lance paused, frowning and looking at his hand, seeing what he knew he had to see despite how weird it was. They hadn't even reached another class, but Black Lion's key was pulsing. "...Hold up a sec."

"Commander?"

"Don't ask me." He tightened his grip on the key and looked around, finding his gaze drawn to a heavy door on their left. "What's in there?"

Frown. "Nothing, really. I mean, it's a machine room."

"I'm gonna poke my head in."

Now Kasun gave him a _look_ , but what did she know? She wasn't the one who had lion keys poking around at her subconscious. "Of course, I'll unlock..." She paused as her hand touched the door panel. "That's odd..."

The door slid open, and someone inside yelped. "HEY! You can't come in here, this area's off limits!"

Immediately the Sky Marshal's demeanor iced over. "At attention, cadet! And explain yourself, since clearly you _know_ you aren't supposed to be in here!"

Slowly, a square-jawed face with messy black hair and violet eyes peeked around the corner of a large piece of equipment. His eyes widened. "Oh. Uh, um... heh... uh oh."

"I said attention!"

The boy swallowed hard and stepped out all the way, saluting. "I was just, uh, I heard some weird noises in here and came to check it out, you know? Being alert and pro-active and all that jazz?"

Kasun glared. "Don't insult me, Allegri. I wouldn't have fallen for that on your first day here when I _didn't_ know you, what makes you think I'm going to fall for it now? Latrine duty, and let's make it two months this time." She gave Lance an apologetic look. "Daniel Allegri, the resident troublemaker. Pay him no mind."

Lance nodded absently; he wasn't exactly one to comment on discipline, though god knew he'd had better ways to blow off class than hiding in random machine rooms. It wasn't his problem, in any case. He kept looking around the rest of the room, trying to find why in the world he'd been drawn in here. But his eyes kept going back to the young man, that electric tingling in his arm intensifying slightly. Almost impatiently. As if Black Lion was well aware he knew what was going on and was just refusing to accept it.

"You've got to be kidding," he muttered.

The words seemed to remind Kasun why he was there; she looked back at him, followed his gaze back to the cadet, then looked at the key in his hand. "...You _do_ have to be kidding. This boy's nothing but trouble, Commander. We find him holed up somewhere new once a week, skipping classes in favor of video games, sneaking into the sim rooms at night... he certainly isn't part of the Panthera Squadron. He's lucky," she shot Daniel a glare, "to still even be enrolled at the Academy."

Despite all that, Black Lion's key kept tingling. It wasn't kidding.

Daniel was looking at him too now, watching quizzically. An odd spark appeared in his eyes; a vague expression of recognition that said he knew he _should_ know who he was looking at, but hadn't quite pieced it together yet.

And then he did.

"Hey, wait... aren't you... but you can't be, but you have to be... dude!" He ducked behind the hunk of metal he'd been hiding behind, picked something up, and scrambled forward again. "You're Lance! You were the Red Lion pilot until they retired Voltron, then you were the head flight instructor for the Alliance, then you just died out of the blue but nobody really believed it, and almost everyone said you ran off and became the best intergalactic smuggler ever, but some people always insisted that they put you in stasis in case Voltron was ever needed again!"

"...Um." Lance blinked slowly. Hadn't expected _that_. Though being the best intergalactic smuggler ever sounded like fun; he'd take it. "Okay, then. I actually already know who I am, but thanks for the refresher course."

"Can I have your autograph?" Daniel shoved something forward at him—the holo-game console he'd apparently been shut up in here with.

Acting more or less on instinct Lance accepted the console. Hell, the kid wanted an autograph, it wasn't like he was going to say _no_. But then he actually looked at what he'd just been handed. The game cover was a huge picture of Voltron, the title written in block letters along the length of the Blazing Sword.

 _Lion Force: The Zarkonian Wars_.

What had the Sky Marshal said? The allure of Voltron was gone. It was just another page in the history books. Yet the console looked very well-worn...

Suddenly he was starting to get the faintest glimmer of what Black Lion might see in this kid. "Belay that latrine duty if you don't mind, Sky Marshal? Our friend here just became _my_ responsibility. I'll expect him at our first team meeting..." He scrawled his name on the console and handed it back to Daniel, locking eyes with the cadet. "Which will be at 0800 tomorrow in the main castle, conference room 5B. Don't be late, or you're right back to Toilet Cleaning 101."

Daniel blinked, then a huge grin split his face. "I'll be there! Uh, I mean, yes sir!" Then he proved he wasn't completely stupid—he bolted before Kasun could try to argue about it.

She looked after him, then gave Lance a disbelieving look. "Really, Commander."

"I'm just the messenger here." He juggled Black Lion's key in his hand. "Do _you_ want to go argue with a robotic demigod lion?"

For a very long minute she and Parker both stared at him, seemingly trying to decide if he was serious about that or not. He just smirked back at them, daring either one to object, and finally Kasun sighed and shook her head. "It's your show. Let's move on. But for all our sakes, I hope your robotic demigod lions know what they're doing."

 _Heh. You and me both, sister._

* * *

The last two classes currently in session were first aid and military history, and through both of them Red's key remained maddeningly silent. Maybe he _would_ just have to suit up and fly his old lion himself.

 _Totally could do that. Bring the Drules ON._ No, that was still a bad idea. Worse than a bad idea. It was not an option, period. Lance sighed. _Responsibility sucks._

"Come on, Red," he murmured to the key. "Picky, picky, picky. I know you have the highest standards, but there's got to be _some_ rookie somewhere in this summer camp that you can make a decent pilot out of, huh?"

Parker gave him an odd look. Kasun pretended not to hear, though he had no doubt she'd picked up on every word, mostly because of the deeply irritated expression on her face. Then she seemed to decide changing the subject would be good. "We'll go get some lunch, then I imagine you'd like a bit of time to yourself? All this must be overwhelming."

Less than she thought, probably, so long as he had something to focus on. When he got some time alone was when everything really _would_ come crashing down on his head. But he wasn't going to say that. "We still need a fifth pilot."

Now she startled. "Only a fifth? Commander, we have plenty of—"

"—You know, there were only five of us when _my_ team first showed up here."

"And not having so much as a single backup caused you no problems whatsoever," she retorted dryly. "In any case, we can look in on the afternoon classes whenever you'd like."

"Hey, things worked out just fine. Eventually." He looked at the keys again. "The kitties have some pretty clear ideas on who they want, Sky Marshal. I keep telling you I'm just following their lead."

"The _kitties_?" Parker repeated incredulously.

"That's what their friends call them."

The aide wisely chose not to press the issue, and Kasun just shook her head in exasperation as they made their way to lunch.

Mess halls had not improved either. Lunch was something that he could tentatively identify as a sandwich, and was _almost_ actually edible. Of course it might not be all the food's fault, given how long his taste buds had been frozen.

Apparently having the Sky Marshal in the cafeteria wasn't a big deal. That or the cadets were just really good at _pretending_ it wasn't a big deal. They got a few odd glances but nothing more. _What's wrong with these newbies? Back in MY day we'd have started a food fight on her behalf. Hmph._

As he debated the slipping standards in cadet rebellion, Lance noticed something that might prove his complaints wrong—a glimpse of a commotion through a far window. The sort of commotion that would no doubt stop real quick if the Face Of Authority turned up and took notice. But something was pulling him toward it, an instinct he couldn't quite explain... explaining it didn't matter. If there was one thing Lance had to believe he could still trust, it was his own instincts.

"I'm going to walk this lovely feast off," he declared, standing and stretching. "Got to get back in the swing of exercise, and all. I'll be back in a few."

Kasun frowned, and he was certain she was about to either tell him no or 'offer' him an escort. But then she shrugged. "Of course. When you're finished we'll show you to your quarters, or if you prefer, get back to work."

"Sure." He shot her a mocking salute that could, if one were feeling generous, pass for a not so mocking salute. From her expression, he was pretty sure she wasn't feeling generous, and that sparked a grin as he stood and started to walk a casual lap around the outskirts of the mess hall.

A handful of the cadets took note of him, briefly, then went back to their food. No hints of recognition. He returned their glances equally casually, but his sharp eyes missed nothing as he edged towards the source of his interest. Outside. He could see them just fine from in here, and surely at least _some_ of the students must too. But nobody was taking any note of it. Lance was annoyed, but he wasn't surprised—he remembered his own Academy days all too well. Intervening with the resident bullies either got you beat up or demerited for fighting.

The resident bullies of 3058, it seemed, were a pair of hulking Draethyns. In his own time Lance had never met a Draethyn who didn't need to be punched in the face. _Some things_ never _change._ These two had cornered a reedy, dark-skinned boy with a scraggly goatee and a fancy datapad; he was wearing the Panthera Squadron's unit patch, but didn't seem all too enthused about dealing with the red-skinned bouncers looming over him.

Lance ducked out the door into the parking lot. Still casual. But listening.

"Well? Where's our homework, punk? You had three hours. Plenty of time."

"I told you I wasn't going to do it!" Any courage the boy's words might have indicated was belied by his wavering voice. "Just back off, okay?"

"Just back off, okay?" the larger of the bullies mimicked. "We told _you_ what the price was gonna be if you _didn't_ do it. Guess we better teach him a lesson, Thess."

"Guess we better," the smaller one leered, and reached for his datapad.

All hell broke loose.

The cadet's eyes flared, pupils and amber irises washed out in sparking white light. The datapad itself seemed to react to whatever was happening to its owner; a jolt of energy that must surely have drained its power supply leapt from its screen, consuming the Draethyn's arm with a sizzle.

Lance himself took a step back, startled. Even from here he could smell the burnt flesh.

The burnt bully gave a very unintimidating shriek and pulled back, wrapping his other hand around his singed fingers. The other lunged. "You think you're funny, pipsqueak? Let's see how hard your face laughs once I rip it off and hang it from the flagpole!"

His supposed victim sidestepped gracelessly, stumbling, bolts of light arcing from his hand straight into the Draethyn's chest. A halo of energy wrapped around his target, then vanished with a much louder sizzle and a puff of smoke.

 _Holy cats..._

"S-sorry!" the boy stammered, the glow in his eyes fading as he stared at the scorched bullies. "Uh, I'll um, call the med wing for you?"

"Nah, dude, don't bother. These guys are all big and tough, they can find their own way." Lance strode up, grinning a little at the shocked expressions that greeted him. "Get lost, you two, unless you want the Sky Marshal's teeth marks on your ass to go with those burn marks on the rest of you."

"Actually I'm standing right here, Commander." He jumped at the voice—why _hadn't_ he expected her to follow him, seriously? "And if Cadets Thesseltar and Eskahir wish to remain enrolled at this academy, they will _get out of my sight_ and present themselves to the disciplinary office the _instant_ they are finished receiving medical attention! You have both been warned!"

If they'd looked shocked by Lance's appearance, Kasun's took whatever bravado they had left and threw it off the nearest cliff. Both scrambled to give painful-looking salutes before making a hasty retreat between the rows of hovercars, the larger one still leaving a trail of ash trickling from his tail.

Despite himself he shot the Sky Marshal an appreciative look. "That was effective."

"Maybe it'll sink in this time," she grumbled, and turned her attention to Bolt Boy. "Are you alright, Vince? I seem to recall you've been warned about this too."

"I didn't do it on _purpose_."

Sigh. "You never do. I'm not going to write you up for that, given that those two were no doubt asking for it. Just go back to your quarters and try to stay out of trouble for a change."

The boy nodded and took off in the opposite direction of his torched tormentors.

"How do you _do_ that?" Lance asked as Vince departed. "I could barely keep up with the cadets in my own field of study, and here you're what, micromanaging the entire Academy along with the actual military?"

"Eidetic memory." She shrugged. "It does make micromanagement tempting; I have to put some effort into not interfering with my subordinates. I do much _prefer_ the hands-off approach, I simply like to know everything that happens on my watch. It increases performance and accountability for everyone to know I have my eye on things."

"Big Sister is watching you," he muttered under his breath.

She glared. "My hearing is also just _fine_ , Commander."

There were several things he could've said in response to that, but they all seemed to flee his thoughts when something else abruptly demanded his attention. His own hand was hot, searing hot, and without the little altercation in front of him to focus on he was struck by a fierce tug at the back of his mind. Almost a roar of impatience.

...There was only one key left, wasn't there?

"You're serious, Red?" he whispered, looking down at the crimson metal burning in his hand. Then again, a cadet who could _already_ set his enemies on fire might just make perfect sense. "...Okay, Sky Marshal Eidetic Memory, who exactly was Bolt Boy and what's his story? He from a newly discovered race of humanoid electric eels, I guess?"

Snort. "His name is Vince Brenton, and he's quite human, as best we can tell. He comes from a distant border colony, one of a highly advanced people who call themselves the Technomancers, and what you just saw was only a fraction of the things he's managed to do by accident." She looked in the direction he'd run off, shaking her head. "On purpose is another story entirely. Not even his own kind seem to know what to make of the powers he has at the level they've manifested. We do give the Panthera Squadron some training in mysticism, but I'm sure you know the Alliance has never been especially well-equipped for such things."

Lance couldn't help a laugh, wondering just what kind of 'training in mysticism' the Alliance thought would help future lion pilots. Even Sven's best efforts hadn't been able to get the idea any sort of institutional acceptance in his time; no doubt Keith had put it on the curriculum and so, like good little clueless bureaucrats, they'd tried to implement it whether they knew what they were doing or not.

 _Shame we didn't think of setting up the perpetual training regimen_ before _I went under. Oh well._

Red's key was still pulsing; it had calmed down a little from when it first tried to get his attention, but the surge was still strong. Insistent. Unlike the disconcerting sensations from the other keys, this one was very much _his_.

That might've made the next words harder. Oddly, it might have made them easier. Even with it choosing a new pilot, Red Lion was still his. "Let's go tell Parker to write his name down. I've got my team."

* * *

As they returned to the castle, Parker disappeared down a side hallway, presumably to get in touch with the cadets and inform them they had an early meeting tomorrow. The Sky Marshal studied Lance for a moment, then started for the residential wing. "Hopefully you'll find your quarters to your liking; I rather doubt you're getting your old room, but it ought to be comfortable enough."

Lance nodded then gave her a quizzical look. "I wouldn't think the Sky Marshal would get roped into playing hotel guide."

"Hardly. We have further business to discuss." They passed through a checkpoint into a hallway that he knew all too well. "The largest remaining issue is the status of the lions themselves. What sort of mechanical staff will you need to fix them?"

 _Fix them?_ He blinked. "Uh, what do they need fixed from if they haven't seen any combat lately? I mean, I'm assuming they haven't seen combat since you're just now waking me up."

She seemed confused by the question. "No, of course not. I'm referring to the damage from Galra."

"You mean you _still_ haven't tried to patch them up from _Galra_?" Lance repeated, fixing her with a look of disbelief that rapidly shifted into a frown. That wasn't how things were supposed to have gone at all, or at least, not the arrangement when he'd been put under. Flying was one thing; reawakening Voltron was what he'd been intended to help with. But just trying to _fix_ the lions was supposed to be high on the agenda in the meantime.

Kasun matched his frown. "The Alliance believed the best course of action was to monitor the lions' power levels, and begin physical repairs once they returned to normal. Which they have not."

 _What? She did not just say that. No way did she just say that._ "Excuse me, Sky Marshal, but I could've sworn you just said it's been three hundred and fifty years and the lions still aren't back to full power."

"That's precisely what I said." She stopped and looked back at him. "I know a few efforts have been made to ascertain why, but you know better than I do that all of Voltron's technical expertise was lost in the final battle. Our people had nothing to go on, and the efforts were abandoned... truthfully we've assumed you would have insight we lacked on the matter."

He bit back his first response. Well, no. He bit back his second response. His first response, popping her in the nose, took a little more restraint.

 _Efforts have been made?_

Sure, the 'technical expertise' of his team was long gone, but the Alliance had had three _centuries_ to study the lions. Pidge and Hunk had become experts in three months. Granted, Pidge had been a genius and Hunk spoke robot better than he'd spoken English, but even so...

But then, why would these people bother putting too much effort into it? Voltron was just ancient history.

Lance hated the future.

"...Fine." He shot the Sky Marshal a dark glare, enough to shake her cool demeanor for a few moments. " _This_ wasn't part of my mandate, but I guess someone has to actually put some effort in. We'll fix it."

Kasun's spine came back quickly; she returned the glare. "The full resources of the Alliance are at your disposal, of course."

"Yeah, sure. They've been so helpful so far, right? I'll let you know if we need anything, but for now, just stay out of my way."

Whatever response she wanted to make to that, she thought better of; that or she just realized they'd reached their destination, and was having as much trouble not throwing a punch at him as he was at her. "Here. Your quarters. The access panel is tuned to your biometrics, and if you have any further requirements you can page the castle staff. Good day, Commander McClain." She spun on her heel and was gone.

Lance glowered after her for a minute before opening the door, revealing a well-furnished if freakishly neat bedroom that, well... pretty much looked like a bedroom. Not very exciting. That was a shame, because bedrooms were meant to be exciting, but he supposed he had bigger problems right now anyway.

Dropping onto the bed, he suddenly felt very alone.

"...They thought I'd have some insights," he muttered, trying to let his irritation fill the gaping hole trying to open up inside of him. "Yeah. Sure." Unclenching his fist for the first time in hours he let the keys fall onto the pillow next to him, trying to take some comfort in their metallic glimmer, their presence. Insights into the same problem that had existed for thirty-five years _before_ he went under? What the hell would he know about it?

 _Guess we'll find out._


	4. Test Run

Reawakening  
Chapter 3: Test Run

* * *

Lance hadn't slept. How could he? He'd been up all night thinking, planning, trying to draw on some of Red Lion's presence and wisdom through his key.

None of those had gone too well.

Really he only had one idea. Engineering _hadn't_ ever been his strong point, after all. But the lions were more than just machines. Maybe locking them in the dens had been the worst mistake they could've made—maybe the lions needed _pilots_ to recover. The human element was a part of Voltron's forging, the pilots were an integral part of its function. His own team had learned that well. Maybe even they hadn't realized just how much.

Red hadn't said yes to that theory, but he hadn't said no, either. Fair enough. It was an 'insight' and he might as well run with it.

He had the training files for his new team now, all loaded into the shiny new datapad sitting on his side table. He hadn't even touched them yet. He really should, to have some idea of what he was about to be dealing with, but he couldn't quite muster the motivation. Soon enough he was going to find out exactly what they were and weren't good at, why bother reading up on what the Alliance _thought_ they were good at?

There was something else he needed to do, anyway. Somewhere he needed to go.

Theoretically, Lance was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be wandering the castle alone yet. But who had time for all that protocol garbage? They _had_ given him clearance, and it was the dead of morning, nobody was going to see him. _Besides, if I have to have escorts they could at least give me some of the_ fun _kind._ Smirking at the thought, he slipped out of his room and took to the silent corridors. It was still eerie... every turn brought him something old and comforting, but also something new and startling. The future was annoying.

He was almost relieved to get where he was going, really. The catacombs were cold, dark, and thoroughly creepy, but at least they hadn't _changed_. Much. Past the chamber he was looking for, he suspected things had probably changed plenty. Three hundred more years of dead Arusian royalty had to be buried somewhere. He just didn't have to go that far.

One chamber was not like the others. One chamber, rather than holding two crypts for king and queen, held five tombs arranged like the points of a star. Each was carved of white marble, trimmed in its own color: black, red, green, blue, yellow. Each was intricately engraved with a snarling, prowling lion, surrounded in elemental motifs. And each held a curious indentation in the top.

The last time he'd been here, only one of those indentations had been filled—and that one by nothing but a few shredded bits of metal. Now three more had been filled in, with three solid bands of black steel and dimmed channels of light. The last Voltron Force had taken their voltcoms with them to the grave.

Lance swallowed hard, fighting down the wave of emotion threatening to choke him completely. "Hey, guys..." He traced his fingers along the golden lines of Hunk's tomb, the emerald trim of Pidge's, and shook his head at the empty and near-empty indentations. One voltcom broken to fragments, the other entirely vaporized. What had he expected? That more remains might've been found in the meantime? Recovery operations on Galra certainly wouldn't have restarted after he was put under.

Maybe he'd just hoped...

The other two stung even worse, in a whole different way. The last time he'd seen Keith and Allura, they were _alive_. Closing his eyes, he cast about in his memories for something from before his last sight of them. Something other than Allura's tearful kiss on his cheek, Keith's stoic nod as they locked hands. He'd been the one 'dying' then, being hidden away in darkness that could all too easily have lasted forever.

Wordlessly he repeated the ritual, his fingers running across the bands of sapphire and onyx that lined their tombs, as if that could somehow make it more real. As if that could somehow make it sting less to be the last one standing...

 _Get it together, McClain. You knew what you were sacrificing, and you did it for a reason. You're not gonna serve their memories, Voltron, or anything else by just standing here blubbering about it._

He turned his attention to the final tomb, edged in ruby, the voltcom in its place belying the truth of the matter. There was no body in it. Never had been. Just an empty casket that had gone through a long, fancy state funeral, and after sitting through all that the poor coffin had _deserved_ a nice tomb all to itself.

"You're gonna be empty for awhile yet, I hope," he muttered as he patted the marble relief. "But thanks for holding onto this for me in the meantime..." At once eager and reverent, he unfastened the latches holding his voltcom in place and lifted it out. Part of him was disappointed when it failed to flare to life at his touch, but once again, what had he expected? Nothing was going to be handed to him in this new world. Nothing but reminders of how far he'd traveled, how much he'd lost.

 _Fine. I can deal with that._

He fastened the voltcom over his arm, the weight of the inert metal still comforting. "Okay, then... Emperor Kargil, was it? You woke me up, Emperor Kargil. You're the guy I went to sleep for, I just didn't know it yet. All of this stupid future crap is _your_ fault." He swept his gaze over the tombs, straightened, and saluted his team with tears glittering in his eyes. "...And you're gonna pay for it. I'm gonna make damn sure of that."

* * *

At 0800 sharp, Captain Parker herded five wide-eyed cadets into conference room 5B. The group had been given only the barest of briefings: a hero of the Alliance had personally selected them for a special assignment. It was close enough to the truth, Lance decided as he watched the group take their seats. Close enough for now.

Daniel knew a little bit more, though it didn't look like he'd had a chance to let any of the others in on the secret yet. On that note, Daniel had actually showed up on time. Lance was surprised—and perhaps also a little bit disappointed. He'd still been harboring some hope that _that_ selection was Black Lion's idea of a prank.

In his mind he heard a voice. Captain Arvos, his own flight instructor, congratulating him on passing her most advanced course. "I expect you to go far, McClain. Far enough that someday you're cursed with teaching another student just like you."

 _Guess the old bag got her wish. Ah well. What's life without a challenge?_

He took a moment to study the dynamics playing out in front of him. Vince and Imam seemed to already be acquainted—no big surprise, they were all part of the same program—and took seats next to each other. Daniel had claimed the end of the table, while Larmina and Bruno chose seats as far from everyone else as they could. More than one person shot Daniel a curious look, perhaps noticing he lacked the Panthera Squadron's patch.

Well, the players were ready. Time to fire things up.

"Good morning! Nice to see you all made it. I'd hate to have to transfer anyone to Toilet Cleaning 101." He shot Daniel a significant look, but the kid didn't even have the decency to look sheepish about it. "My name's Lance McClain; maybe you've heard of me. I'm going to be your new instructor."

That got their attention. Okay, so he'd already had their attention, but that got quite a bit more of it.

"Wait." Vince was the first to find his voice. "You're... you're _the_ Lance McClain? You're not just playing us?"

"That's ridiculous," Larmina snorted. "Didn't know this soldier factory even _had_ a sense of humor, let alone wastes it on random cadets."

"I do not think he is lying." Imam's eyes flickered faintly, peering at Lance as if he could see right through him, and despite himself Lance was more than a little unnerved.

Daniel grinned. "Of course he's not lying. Everyone knows he's been in stasis for the last three hundred years waiting to bring Voltron back!"

 _Everyone knows, huh?_ Lance shot him a look. "What happened to being the galaxy's best smuggler? I kind of liked the sound of that."

Daniel reddened and fell silent.

At the words _bring Voltron back_ Imam had paled, and actually edged his seat away slightly, though maybe he was just shifting to lean forward on the table. Or was he? Lance found that curious, but wasn't inclined to call the whole group's attention to it, so instead he returned his focus to Daniel. "Anyway, despite _someone's_ not being able to keep his stories straight from one day to the next, he's actually right. I'm here to bring back Voltron... or more to the point, that's why the five of _you_ are here."

Nobody's jaw dropped, and there was no great dramatic hush that fell over the table, both of which he would've expected. At least one of them! Though he supposed his own introduction and Daniel's big mouth had clued them in... kind of a shame. Oh well.

"So! Now that we've got that out there, why don't you all introduce yourselves?" He swept his gaze over the room. "Since we're all about to be spending a lot of time together, and all. Unless one of you screws it up, but we'll go on the assumption you won't, because that would make for an awful lot of irritating paperwork."

Somehow it already didn't surprise him when Larmina leaned back and rolled her eyes. "How about if one of us just doesn't want in on the dumb fairy tale?"

"Too bad, unless you want to tell it to your parents." He arched a challenging eyebrow and smirked at the way she recoiled. "Or you can tell it to the one who actually picked you for the mission, I guess."

Blink. "You mean you didn't..."

"Nope! That would be the giant robot cats you're going to meet later." He speared her with his best command face—which, for all his own issues with authority, had always been pretty good. "For now, how about you focus on meeting your _teammates_."

"...Right." She sank back and looked around at the others with a deep scowl. "Lady Larmina Kamala sen-Idris, not even a little bit at your service."

"She seems nice," Vince murmured to Imam, then he shrugged and glanced around at the others. "I'm Vince."

Whatever discomfort the Drule next to him had been feeling from the mention of Voltron, he seemed to have gotten past it, though he still sounded a little timid when he spoke. "It is an honor to meet all of you. I am Imam, of the Ghostwalkers."

With a huge smirk Daniel leaned back as far as he could in his chair, and looked like he was probably considering kicking his feet up on the table. But apparently he did have some better judgment. Just not much of it. "Allegri. Daniel Allegri." He shot a wink in Larmina's direction, which got him the death glare to end all death glares.

Even Lance couldn't quite suppress a snort.

Only one member of the team hadn't said anything since arriving, and now all eyes fell on him. The huge Ailurian was hunched in his corner, clearly trying to look as small as possible and doing a surprisingly good job of it. But his growling voice was strong when he spoke; maybe he wasn't so much shy as simply accustomed to not getting in the way. "My name is Brunaitha'elikosto'meshen'vel'thendrig. Call me Bruno."

All of the other cadets' eyes had gotten progressively wider as the name went on and on; Lance just nodded in appreciation. _Parker was right. Twelve syllables_.

"Okay!" He clapped his hands for attention and gave the assembled cadets his most winning smile. "Now that you've all gotten to know one another—oh trust me, you'll get more time to be sick of each other soon enough—let's talk about business! Yes, I _did_ say the lions picked you out." Crossing his arms he gave each of them a look that was stern enough to even make Larmina sit up a little straighter; Imam practically cowered. "Please don't make me argue with them. That'd be bad."

"Argue with them," Bruno repeated. "Aren't they machines?"

 _Heh. Aren't they machines_. Of course Bruno's people wouldn't likely know much about Voltron; hell, even most of the Alliance hadn't understood the lions one bit. "They'll be the coolest machines you've ever flown, I promise you that."

"Not a high bar," Larmina muttered.

"Hey now. Don't make me enforce military discipline here, I wouldn't really like it any more than you do." He could tell he wasn't going to convince her, and honestly, how much more could he tell the kids? Voltron couldn't be explained. Best to get them out to the lions and let them find out for themselves what they were really getting into.

With a gesture that was a little more dramatic than strictly necessary, he pulled the keys from his pocket and spread them out on the table.

Larmina frowned, Bruno tilted his head, Imam withdrew, and Vince startled a bit. But naturally Daniel was the one who found words. "Are those..."

"...The keys?" Lance grinned and shot him a mocking salute. "Why yes, they are! I'm so glad you asked!" He sobered. "Now let's get something straight here, kiddos. These keys are not just shiny bits of metal that you plug into a control panel. These keys are part of your link to your lion, and the sign of your _right_ to fly them. If any of you can't handle treating them with the respect they deserve, this would be a good time to say so."

Nobody spoke up, not even Larmina. He supposed that was a good sign.

"Good. Moving right along then." He picked up Yellow's key and circled around the table, holding it out to Imam. "Yellow Lion will be yours." He couldn't help wondering what Hunk would make of his successor. So formal and serious, never mind that whole Drule thing. "...And you are about as different from Hunk as it's possible to get, but don't let that stop you from rocking it."

The Ghostwalker hesitated a moment before wrapping his spindly fingers around the key, studying it warily. "I shall endeavor to bring honor to Yellow Lion's name, and to his."

 _No doubt_. This whole team, if nothing else, was going to be interesting. He picked up the next key and handed it to Larmina. "You'll be wanting to complain to Blue Lion. And I'd tell you to stop scowling, but Princess or not, Allura was just as ornery as you once. Maybe it's Arusian royal tradition. So you do you." _And hopefully you'll grow out of it like she did_.

"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes but took the key, tossing it between her hands almost casually. Though he noticed as soon as she touched it her sharp gaze seemed to lock on the blue metal, remaining focused there despite whatever nonchalance she wanted to display.

He moved on, offering the next key to Bruno. "Green Lion asked for you." Frown. At first glance Bruno seemed so different from his predecessor too, and yet... "Pidge made his living on being misjudged; I get the feeling you know a thing or two about that. I expect you to be just as infuriating as he was."

The cat man took the key, his huge paw dwarfing Lance's hand, and gave a solemn nod. "I accept that charge gladly."

Picking up Red's key, Lance hesitated a moment, taking in the warmth one more time. No, he still didn't want to surrender this... but something different happened when he turned to Vince and handed him the key. There was a jolt, a flicker of mystic energy shooting between them—brief, yet overwhelming.

 _Red?_

He thought it was just because Red was his lion. That would make sense. But the fact that the young man's eyes had momentarily flared with power seemed to negate that assumption. "Whoa..."

Lance gave him a moment to recover, not to mention trying to get his own composure back. _What was that?_ "...You'll be flying Red Lion, which happens to be _my_ lion, so no pressure."

Vince gulped. "Y-y-y...yessir."

One key was left, and unless he missed his guess...

"Does this mean I get Black Lion?" Daniel practically crowed. "I'm gonna be the commander?"

Yep, he'd called that. "Don't get too excited about it. You're all going to be answering to _me_." Lance took Black's key and shot Daniel a scowl; the others were also looking at him with varying degrees of confusion and annoyance. "But yes, Black Lion wanted you, Daniel. I don't have the slightest idea why." He crossed the room, pressing the black key into Daniel's hand, meeting the cadet's violet gaze seriously before letting go. "That means you have the biggest responsibility of this whole team, and the most to _prove_. I doubt I need to tell you Keith's a damn hard act to follow."

A huge grin split his face. "Don't worry! I've totally got this."

"Let's hope so." He stepped back to the head of the table. Now came the hard part. The fact that he was about to have to tell these kids the lions were still trashed from Galra didn't sit well with him at _all_.

 _They had_ one _job_...

As if the castle could sense his thoughts and wanted to demonstrate that this soldier factory really did have a sense of humor, an awful shrieking erupted from every corner of the room. Three hundred years later, the warning alarms were still pretty awful. "...Well. I suppose that spares me having to explain to you _why_ we're bringing Voltron back."

"Yeah, guess so," Vince said in a small voice, and Imam nodded fervent agreement.

Bruno had jumped up at the sound of the alarms, sharp claws extending from his fingertips, and then looked a bit awkward as he realized he was still in the perfectly secure conference room. "...Commander? Do we act?"

Excellent question, though with a little thought it struck him as odd. "Is sending cadets out _usually_ a thing around here when the alarms go off?"

"Only time alarms ever go off is drills," Larmina snorted, "and they come along with a big THIS IS A DRILL, DON'T GET YOUR PANTIES IN A WAD announcement. Then they ship us down to the shelters so we don't get in the way. They're boring."

"Totally boring," Daniel agreed. "But hey, we're not cadets anymore, right? We're the Voltron Force! Where are the lions?"

Sigh. "That was going to be my next point, but if you all really want to get out there..." He went to the room's comm panel, silencing the alarms and typing in Kasun's direct contact code. "So hey, Boss Lady? Your new top secret pilot group is pretty interested in that racket going off everywhere. Orders?"

The cadets gave him looks of mixed shock and admiration, which might actually be worrisome. Showing that kind of 'respect' to the Sky Marshal herself could possibly come back to bite him later, but there was no sense pretending he cared about military discipline. The kids would figure out Voltron Force discipline soon enough.

It took a minute for Kasun's voice to come back. "Attacking force appears to be a scouting wing, two capital ships. You can't possibly be thinking of unsealing the lions for this, with the condition they're in?"

"Not exactly. We wouldn't have time to activate the lions even if you _had_ fixed them, but I'm assuming you have some other defenses."

"Of course we do! This _is_ the Castle of Lions." The Sky Marshal's scowl was clearly audible. "The orbital defenses have already engaged, and there are twice as many automated systems waiting on the ground. The Fifteenth Strike Battalion is based on the other side of the complex, and they're getting in the air as we speak."

"Got it." At least the cadets weren't being thrown into protecting the planet all alone right away, unlike a certain _other_ team that had once defended Arus. "Anything else around here combat-worthy and not already spoken for?"

Kasun hesitated. "We have several training Gyrfalcons, of course—they're all under practice locks but those can be removed easily." Then she must have realized what he was asking, because she followed with, "I'll order five freed up."

"Excellent." Lance turned around and looked over the kids. No, he should probably stop thinking of them as 'the kids' and start calling them 'the Force', shouldn't he? No. Maybe when they earned it.

Maybe they would earn it now.

"Voltron Force in training, time to get your butts in those fighters and show me what you can do."

* * *

Kasun was waiting in Control when he arrived, but it was otherwise empty. "The castle's under attack and nobody else is in the control room?"

"No. This room was kept locked down, to prevent any access to the passages leading to the lions. One of the auxiliary hangars was converted into a command post for the facility's regular defense forces."

"Fair enough." Lance turned his attention to the holo-display, which now showed a representation of the battle in Arus' atmosphere, two Drule warships surrounded by fighter screens descending on the facility. _So much for not drawing attention here_. Though if he knew Drules—and he'd certainly used to—this attack had very little to do with tactics. "Where's my cubs at?"

She arched an eyebrow, but pointed to five pinpoints of pale gray just getting off the ground. "Operating under the designation Panther Flight, once I overruled the better judgment of everyone else involved, including my own. We do have simulators for this sort of thing, you know."

"Yeah, but the kids wanted to get out and party. Besides, simulators only tell you half the story of a pilot. They've got all the flying but none of the death." His eyes narrowed as the Gyrfalcons streaked into battle. "They're getting orders from upstairs?"

"Yes."

"Guess I'd better not try to give them any, then." He looked at the control console and grimaced—nothing looked familiar. The future was _really_ annoying. "Patch me into their comms? Please?" Then it hit him how ridiculous it was to have the Sky Marshal of the whole Alliance teaching him how to use the electronics. "...And uh, shouldn't _you_ be upstairs?"

"The local command should be perfectly capable of handling this... I told you, I have to put some effort into resisting the urge to micromanage." She grimaced. "Easier to do that if I just stay out of their way."

 _Huh. Guess she really is serious about that_. "Overcompetence is a curse," he agreed with a long-suffering sigh, "but you'll get used to it. I did." He'd known she was going to roll her eyes before she did it, and she didn't disappoint him, but any further commentary was cut off by a voice crackling over the comms.

"—Falcon and Panther Flights, go deal with those outer screens, don't let us get boxed in. Move!"

"We're moving, we're moving," Daniel muttered, though the comm icons indicated he hadn't transmitted it beyond his team—thankfully. His fighter was streaking forward at close to full speed, with Bruno pacing him to one side. Vince and Imam were lagging a little behind, and Larmina brought up the rear. Lance focused on her for a moment; she looked much less shaky than she had on the sims, though she didn't look great either. That probably meant something that he would have to work out later.

A flight of Drule fighters was swooping in on them. They'd changed surprisingly little in three hundred fifty years: the same spindly horizontal design, the same powerful main guns, and judging from the rest of the battle the same total lack of structural integrity. Apparently Drule combat philosophy hadn't changed in three and a half centuries either. Looking over the console for a minute he figured out how to zoom in on his team, just as Daniel and Bruno engaged.

Daniel did exactly what Lance would have expected him to: he sped up, guns blazing, burning straight in on the Drule fighters which actually seemed a bit startled by the move. What he didn't so much expect was for Bruno to go corkscrewing in right beside him, his Gyrfalcon spitting a stream of tracers and lasers that didn't seem to be doing a lot of damage, but certainly were causing plenty of chaos—not to mention wreaking havoc on any attempts the enemy made to hit _him_.

 _Like a dervish._

"Dude, Catman, you can be my decoy _any_ day." Daniel's voice held genuine admiration, no matter how obnoxious the words were.

Lance was about to open the comms and snap at him for it anyway, but Bruno beat him to responding. "Acceptable. Just don't miss."

A pair of missiles spiraled in from Daniel's fighter as he came back around, punching into the engine of one of the Drule craft and shattering it into a spray of metal and fire. "You've got yourself a deal!"

 _Uh huh_. Lance raised his eyebrows, and glancing over saw Kasun doing the same. _Well, I guess it's good they're getting along?_

As Daniel and Bruno were carving up one group of Drule fighters, another flight came burning in to back them up, only to run headlong into Vince and Imam. Imam pulled up short and opened fire, his lasers splashing over the cockpit of the lead ship in the Drule formation. That was more than enough to convince it to pull back as Vince split off to one side.

A silver flare drew Lance's attention to the wings of Vince's fighter. It wasn't a weapon, or at least, he hadn't seen anything like it from the other fighters. It wasn't an impact, it was lasting too long. And it wasn't an artifact of the projector, because it was glowing much too steadily. It was easy enough to tell what it wasn't, but what it was he couldn't begin to imagine...

When Vince's guns opened up, he got his answer. Sort of. Rather than tracers what seemed like a solid stream of quicksilver linked the Gyrfalcon and its target. And despite the fact that the silver paths curved sharply in midair, his bullets seemed to find their mark perfectly, slicing off the Drule craft's wing and sending it plunging to the earth.

 _What in the hells?_

"Vince!" Imam called out, swooping in to cover as Vince's fighter seemed to stall after the kill. "Are you alright?"

"I uh, I think so... I'm not sure what just happened?"

That gave the Ghostwalker a momentary pause. "It was effective, though you seem to be indicating it was not entirely pragmatic." As if to illustrate the value of pragmatism, he launched a missile at a Drule ship trying to take advantage of the moment. This shot, too, hit the enemy cockpit, but this time it tore through the glass and blew it out completely.

That wasn't really what Lance had expected either.

Vince recovered, retaking a position on Imam's wing. "Thanks, dude, I owe you one."

"Not at all, my friend."

"Well," Lance muttered under his breath, "looks like we've at least got two lovely combat bromances blossoming." That implicitly left one of his team out, of course... he turned his attention to Larmina's fighter.

She was clearly trying to stay out of the heart of the dogfight, launching missiles from her maximum range and really not doing half badly at it; her suppressing fire was keeping the Drules pinned down for the others to pick off. But a couple of the enemy fighters had had quite enough of that and were converging on her position, lasers flaring. One blast nearly put a hole in her wing, and a great deal of Arusian swearing flooded her cockpit.

Then she dove.

Lance's eyes widened as he watched the Gyrfalcon drop—it was a perfectly executed maneuver, with none of the shakiness she'd displayed on the sims. And the timing was flawless; neither Drule fighter realized what was happening until it was too late, and their main lasers drilled into each other, sending both plummeting.

As Larmina pushed her fighter back up into the melee the Gyrfalcon began to look more and more tentative, nearly clipping Bruno before fleeing for empty air. And suddenly Lance thought he might just have an idea...

Despite how well they'd started, the battle was starting to turn against the makeshift Panther Flight. The problem with Drule fighters was that what they lacked in durability they made up for with numbers. In _spades_. A third group had moved in to assist their scattered allies, and the Gyrfalcons were starting to take some hits. They were tough, Lance could tell that, but a fighter was still a fighter: you could only load them up with so much armor, because aerodynamics were a thing.

Bruno was doing his best to carve up the enemy formations, but he'd taken an engine shot and was losing speed, which tended to be inconvenient for that whole _not-getting-hit_ thing. Imam was a mess; his careful precision had the side effect of giving the bad guys plenty of time to hit him back. Vince was covering Larmina, but she was out of missiles and he seemed to have run out of weird silver magic, and she'd gone as shaky as ever again. And Daniel had gotten isolated from the others and was just now scrambling back, his flight erratic due to a large hole in his fighter's tail.

Just as Lance was about to yell for them to retreat, and the hell with whoever was in charge upstairs, the main comms crackled again. "Looks like they've had enough. Vulture Flight, scan the ground, make sure none of those spy pods are still out there. All other units, chase these bastards out of our orbit!"

Sure enough, despite having the upper hand the Drule fighters were starting to pull back. Zooming the display back out he could see the two warships gathering in a few large spherical probes—presumably the spy pods—and fleeing as fast as their massive engines would take them as the Alliance fighters pursued.

Kasun turned to him and tilted her head. "Well, Commander? What do you make of them?"

"They're half decent fighter pilots," he answered truthfully, and frowned. "...We've got a lot of work to do."

* * *

They gathered in the conference room again after the battle. Daniel had a huge, smug grin on his face, though Vince and Imam looked reasonably pleased with themselves too. Bruno looked a little shaken and Larmina looked, well... grumpier.

Lance rested his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Not bad, cubs! Not great, but not bad. Don't worry, 'great' will come later."

Daniel's grin faded into indignation immediately. "Dude, did you see us out there? We rocked it!"

"Yeah, you rocked it... for the first five minutes, with about a hundred more experienced pilots to back you up. It's a good start, kid, but it's way too early to get excited." Lance looked over the five, wondering if this was really the best the Alliance could do. But it was going to have to suffice, wasn't it? And in fairness, his own merry band of five hadn't exactly been the elite of the elite when they first came to this planet. They'd manage.

"That brings me to my next point: getting you into something a little more impressive than those Gyrfalcons. And that's going to be complicated. It was _always_ going to be complicated, or they wouldn't have needed to put me under—and it's gotten a lot more so in the meantime. We have more than one mission here."

Daniel looked unimpressed by his declaration. "Okay, so job number one is kicking Drule butt. Job number two is kicking more Drule butt. Job number three is smiling and waving to the crowds after we win. That about sum it up?"

"No, that does _not_ about sum it up." Lance shot him a smoldering glare that made Vince jump away a bit, just to be sure he wasn't caught in the blast radius. "First you have to understand why Voltron was retired. Then maybe, _maybe_ , you rookies will be able to be part of fixing it. And _then_ you can hopefully use it to kick Drule butt..." He paused, looking at Imam. "Uh, present company excluded."

The turquoise-skinned Drule bowed his head. "I am a Ghostwalker, commander. It pleases our erstwhile brothers in the Empire not to think of us as Drules at all; until we can free them from their misguided path, we take no offense if the Alliance shares that view."

 _...Okay then._ Lance just nodded, not sure what to say to that, and waited to see if someone else would break the suddenly awkward silence.

It wasn't who he expected. "So. Fixing the lions." Bruno cocked his head. "You said that to the Sky Marshal. They've been damaged while they were sealed away?"

"No." Almost the opposite, really. "They actually _can't_ be damaged in their dens, it's a thing. But it turns out locking them up there for three and a half centuries hasn't magically repaired them, either..." He paused. How much could he really dump on these kids in one day? They didn't have a lot of time, the recon attack had proved it, but overwhelming them wouldn't help anything either. Plus they were going to need to be as sharp and well-rested as possible for the next step, not recovering from a dogfight. "...And that's a long story, and you've had a long day already."

"We're _fine_ ," Daniel insisted.

Larmina glowered. "Who's this 'we' you speak of? 'We' just spent hours in a bunch of flying blenders."

"Pretty sure that was only _you_ , actually—"

"—Stow it, you two. _My_ orders are non-negotiable." Lance crossed his arms. "Leave your keys here, because the lions may like the five of you but they haven't said a thing about your roommates, and go get some sleep. We'll continue this tomorrow, same time, same place."

They filed out with varying degrees of sullenness; he decided to take that as a good sign. It meant they were buying in, if only a little bit.

Tomorrow they'd see just how much.

* * *

The first battle of his glorious conquest could have gone better. Then again, it could have gone worse.

Having his scouting forces return in defeat did not please Emperor Kargil in the least, but he'd expected little else from them. They were, after all, only scouts—those with the enthusiasm to die for the Empire's glory but not the skill to do so _usefully_. No matter. Cannon fodder was also a part of war.

What they'd brought back with them, though, might prove more useful. They claimed to have been contacted by a stranger demanding to speak to their leader, offering his aid...

What aid could some human scum offer the Empire? It was at least worth asking.

The emperor watched his guards herd their 'guest' forward, frowning. The figure wore sleek black leather armor, and a dark cloak with a hood and mask that shrouded most of his face. His gait was measured and confident, even when the lead guard prodded his back with a plasma rod and snarled for him to hurry up. He might actually have slowed down, just slightly...

Kargil disliked him immediately.

The hood wasn't what bothered him, though it certainly didn't help; showing up masked was no way to prove trustworthiness. But there was something about the stranger's aura. He felt cold, fearsome... deadly. And as much as he found that disconcerting to have marched into his throne room, the lord of the Drule Empire was no fool. It was that very sense of lethality that might make this stranger worth his while.

"Speak your name, supplicant!" he barked, as the guards stopped at a respectful distance.

The cowled head tilted, studying him. A pause that was just shy of insolent. Then, "You can call me Zeliax."

 _...Well._

 _WELL._

That was a lovely start to the encounter. It wasn't every day strangers turned up claiming to be the Drule god of wrath.

"You _demand_ an audience with the emperor of the Drules, refuse to show your face, and speak sheer blasphemy. For your sake, I hope you have a good reason I shouldn't strike you down on the spot for your arrogance." Kargil pulled his sword from its sheath, lovingly caressing the flat of the blade. "Mind you, I will quite enjoy it if you do not..."

"Do you insult all your potential allies with idle threats?" The stranger crossed his arms; a glimpse of his face was visible as the cloak rustled, gaunt and pale with venomous green eyes. "If you'd prefer a different name, I can make one up. Nothing but words. But you aren't going to kill me, you know I can help you." A faint smirk. "Otherwise you'd have killed me already rather than talking about it."

Those words only intensified Kargil's hatred for this... this whatever or whoever the hell he was. Partly because of his audacity. Mostly because he was entirely correct.

"Are _you_ always so arrogant towards your betters?"

A pause. "Manners are only words, Emperor Kargil, and betters are often fleeting. I apologize if my methods do not please you."

Well, at least that was a bit more conciliatory. And the emperor found himself curious now, loathe as he was to admit it. He sheathed his blade and nodded. "Very well. I can be convinced to forgive your transgressions... what value do your offer my empire?"

"Information. I've studied your people, Emperor; I knew this invasion was inevitable. But I wonder if you are fully prepared for what you'll face."

 _Ah. Yes_. Kargil's eyes glowed, his hatred no longer turned towards Zeliax. He knew what the cloaked figure was speaking of. "Voltron."

"Yes. Voltron will stand against you. I'm sure you know how that worked out for your predecessor... but I know something of Voltron, also." Zeliax's lips twitched beneath the shroud. "Perhaps more than anyone now living, and certainly more than the children the Alliance has dredged up as pilots."

 _Interesting_. That was new information right there; his spies hadn't reported anything about pilots being selected already. Kargil had no doubt it was a calculated revelation. "And you'll want something in return for your services, of course."

"Of course, though I think you'll find my terms reasonable. My cause is to see Voltron destroyed." A soft laugh. "If I give you the tools to carry that mission out, I expect you'll actually _do_ it."

 _Very interesting_. "A difficult offer to refuse. Almost too difficult."

"I suppose so." The figure drew his cloak a bit closer. "Shall I invent a grander price? I'd prefer a more honest working relationship than that, but if it would make you more comfortable I can make other demands."

Kargil couldn't quite tell if he was being mocked or not, and his general response to that sort of uncertainty was to assume so—and take steps to correct it. Those steps usually involved blood and snapping bones. But no, he wasn't prepared for such drastic measures.

 _First, see what he truly offers. Then, if insufficient, slay him._

"No, I think not. If these are your terms, so be it; I will accept your aid. But you will show your face in my court."

Zeliax considered this, then shook his head. "No. I will not. My shroud is for your own protection, Emperor Kargil... it's best that the face of wrath remain hidden."

Had he just said that? Oh, he'd just said that. Kargil's hand ran across the hilt of his sword, though he chose not to draw it again. Yet. "I suggest you mind yourself. I will accept this name you've been so arrogant to take on, but if you dare to pretend you are the true god of wrath..."

A pause. Zeliax studied him for a long moment, turned to look at his guards, then returned his gaze to the emperor... and his eyes glowed, flaring with silver lightning. "Do any of you dare to prove I am not?"

Both guards recoiled, and even Kargil allowed surprise to dance over his face for a moment. Only surprise. He would not fear this creature, no matter what tricks he had at his disposal. But he needed to retake control, and quickly. "I forbid it," he snapped at the guards as if there were any chance they were going to make a move, then returned his gaze to the stranger. "You bring us arrogance and high expectations. I will indulge your... eccentricities, so long as you prove useful. But if you fail me, _Zeliax_ , I will personally slay you and rip your shroud from your severed head. Do we have an understanding?"

To his shock, the hooded figure bowed deeply. Almost deeply enough to actually seem respectful. "We do indeed, Emperor."


	5. Acquaintance

Reawakening  
Chapter 4: Acquaintance

 _Thanks for the reviews all! Glad people are enjoying this so far... I suppose we should have lions sometime, huh?_

* * *

Though they initially met in the conference room the next day, Lance's first order of business was taking the cubs somewhere more appropriate. After all, the Voltron Force didn't hang out in boring conference rooms.

Mostly.

"Welcome to your real home base, kiddos," he declared as the main entrance slid open. "This is Castle Control."

Even Larmina looked impressed, but it was Vince who stepped a little bit ahead of the others, and looked like it was all he could do not to run in and start pressing buttons. "That's a Skywatch Overlord Model 8G! The most advanced C&C holotank in Alliance space! I thought those only existed at Galaxy Garrison, only five were even built before Vandrian sabotage destroyed the production line, they..." Suddenly he seemed to realize everyone was just gawking at him. "...uh, I mean, they're really cool."

 _Oookay then. Daniel's not the only one around here who can go full fanboy at a moment's notice. Good to know!_

Speaking of Daniel... "Dude." He slugged Vince lightly on the arm and pointed to the bulkheads on the edges of the room. "You're worried about the holotank? Do you realize what _those_ are?"

"They look like door..." Blink. "Oh. ... _Oh_."

Bruno chuckled, stepping further into the room himself, then drawing up short and looking around warily. "Odd. This room isn't so lifeless as it looks."

"No," Imam agreed softly. "Vast power sleeps nearby, and this place is at its heart."

"Exactly," Lance confirmed, stepping up to the main console and crossing his arms. "For those of you who _aren't_ screaming fanboys, those doors you see around you aren't just painted with lion heads for show. They lead to the dens, and you'll get very familiar with them." Grin. "Also they're ridiculously fun."

"...Fun? They're _doors_ ," Larmina snorted.

"Yeah, yeah. You'll see." With a flourish he activated the console in front of him, the flat-panel screen springing to life—maybe not as cool as Vince's holotank, but he was pretty sure the content would make up for it. "Now as I think you've all gathered by now, the lions are much more than just machines. They have their own minds, and they bond with their pilots—or if they don't like you, they won't fly for you."

Vince frowned. "Thought you said they chose us?"

"They did. But all that means is you get an audition; it's up to _you_ to live up to whatever they see in you." With some effort he resisted looking straight at Daniel when he said that, instead working through the system he'd spent all last night familiarizing himself with. The last three hundred years had seen an awful lot of upgrades, but thankfully they'd never actually wiped the old data.

Schematics of the five lions appeared on the main screen, and that ache of familiarity came to life in Lance all over again.

"They're beautiful," Bruno murmured.

 _Aren't they though?_ He turned to the cadets, keeping one hand on the console. "Each lion is tied to an element, which is pretty much why they're hidden away in dens on Arus rather than locked in a top secret hangar on Earth. Yellow Lion," he focused the image, "lives in the desert; it's powered by earth and rock. Blue Lion is powered by water and ice, and has a den beneath the lake. Green Lion is powered by wind, but lives in the forest, because it's hard to build a den in the middle of a weather phenomenon."

A couple of the kids snickered.

"Red Lion lives in a volcano, which is undeniably the most badass den of them all, since he's powered by fire and magma. And Black Lion..." Oh no. He knew how this went now. Rather than even bothering to try to explain Black, he just shut his mouth and looked at Daniel.

But Daniel, for once, didn't seem to have anything to say, and actually blushed a little when he realized Lance's gaze was boring into him. "Uh... um... breathes lightning and is the leader and forms the head and is totally awesome?"

A few more snickers.

"Honestly. I finally give you a chance to show off your knowledge of all things Voltron, and 'breathes lightning' is the best you can give me?" Lance smirked. "But yes, Black Lion breathes lightning, because it's powered by the storm. Which is _also_ difficult to build a den in the middle of. But I'm sure you've all noticed that huge lion statue in front of the castle, and maybe you've even noticed it's a hell of a lightning rod. That would be because Black Lion's den is hidden beneath it."

He let that hang there for a minute, watching the group take it in—their eyes darting over each other, the images of the lions, the doors ringing the control room. Then he arched a challenging eyebrow. "So. Everyone still in?"

For the first time Daniel seemed to think of speaking for everyone, looking over them again before he answered. Or maybe he just wanted some backup after his little embarrassment. But Lance decided to take it as a good sign. "Totally."

"Alright. Then we hope these Alliance clowns have come through with the rest of their bargain..." He walked to a storage locker set into the wall, opened it up, and breathed a small sigh of relief.

There they were. Five devices made of glossy black steel, a lion's head motif carved into each by dim gray channels that would soon be lit with color and life. Hopefully. Or else it was back to the drawing board, and they didn't have time for that.

Daniel's eyes widened. Apparently he was back to knowing about things. "Are those...?"

"Voltcoms." Lance turned back to the group. " _Your_ voltcoms, if you can earn them. But that's not up to me." He looked at his own for a moment, its energy conduits still a dull red. If the kids succeeded here, maybe that energy would return to life as well... "This is your first mission. You take these to the lions, and I wait to see how many of you come back in one piece."

Vince looked a little stricken as he took his. "Wh... what do you mean how _many_ of us come back in one piece?"

"Exactly what I said, kid. The lions have been sleeping for three hundred and fifty years. They might be a little grumpy if you wake them up to waste their time." He finished handing the devices out and swept his gaze over the group, reading their expressions. Excitement, confusion, anticipation, pure terror...

Yeah, that all seemed about right.

Larmina lowered her eyes and poked at her voltcom as she locked it around her wrist, flexing her arm a bit to test its weight. "Okay, great. So what do we do to not waste their time?"

"I can't tell you that, and even if I could I wouldn't. That's up to them." He shrugged. "When _my_ team showed up, they judged us in combat—they were already awake and pretty impatient to go wreck some of the Drules that were trashing Arus. You guys, who knows? But I know this." He waited for Larmina to look up again. "The lions did pick you five out. They must think you have _something_ going for you. So go prove it."

He hit a button on the main console, and for the first time in over three centuries, the doors to the lions' dens opened.

* * *

With his first step out of the shuttle, Imam realized he'd vastly underestimated the gravity what he was getting into. And he had thought it held _quite_ a lot of gravity.

Yellow Lion's den still took his breath away.

The power in this place was incredible, almost beyond his comprehension. The swirls of sand were welcoming, drawing him to where the great lion slept, its scarred head resting on its paws. Imam took a shaky breath, just committing this sight to memory. It was fascinating—yet also terrifying. The Drule Protectorate had still been part of the Empire when Voltron had last awakened, after all. Their history was one of fear.

When his own people still remembered these mighty metal beasts as gods of destruction, how was he supposed to react to being chosen to pilot one? But how could he have declined the calling, the honor?

It wasn't as though he was a particularly _good_ Ghostwalker. Many of his people joined the Alliance military out of a sense of duty or honor, a calling to protect what they held dear. On the other hand, his primary reason had been his ineptness at all but the most basic of the ancient necromantic rituals—not a great desire to fight or protect, but simply the need to make some use of himself _somewhere,_ since the Lords of the Dead apparently didn't care for his service.

Yet here he now stood, in the shadow of a legend...

Though the lion remained still, Imam had the unmistakable sense he was being watched, and decided there wasn't much point in stalling. So he halted a few yards from the square jaw and bowed deeply.

"I am Imam of the Ghostwalkers, called to this place by the sands of the earth. Mighty Yellow Lion, I humbly present myself to you."

 _Hmm... do you now?_ The lion's eyes flared to life, filling the cavern with light and daggerlike shadows, as it raised its head and its voice rumbled through his mind. _You don't look like much. Runt._

That was... not auspicious, to put it mildly. Then again, it wasn't exactly new. "I have heard that many times before, great one."

 _Hmph. Maybe you have. Maybe you've heard it from humans, who can't see more than skin deep until you take a hammer and crack 'em open. Maybe you've heard it from Drules, who shipped you off to wash out of the Alliance so they wouldn't have to deal with you themselves. Maybe you've heard it from yourself, time and time again. Maybe not maybe. I'm pretty sure of all that._

Oh...

So the lion could see his past, and perhaps far more. That shouldn't come as a surprise. It might have been a bigger surprise if such a powerful entity _couldn't_ detect such things. Still, having that thrown back in his face was not auspicious either.

There was no sense arguing it, so he cocked his head, acutely aware of the threads of energy weaving their way around him. "You are correct, of course."

 _Of course_. A sound that might have been a laugh, but might have been a growl. _But they don't matter now. I matter. You came to my den, you woke me up._ Another flare of the lion's eyes, and Imam nearly lost his balance. The sand was shifting, sucking him in. _I'm always a little grumpy when I wake up. Your soul's in_ my _paws now, runt. And I'm not so sure you look like you're worth my time._

Imam's immediate focus was on not panicking, which was a little difficult when the earth was trying to swallow him up. "You have made that clear, great one."

 _So what are you going to do about it, Imam of the Ghostwalkers?_

He could have hesitated. Could have wavered on the line between arrogance and confidence, could have thought himself into indecision. He was pretty good at all of that. But the lion's rough tone spurred him on beyond thought, beyond questions. He'd been chosen for this, he'd been called here... a Ghostwalker may not fear death, but he refused to believe he'd been summoned only to die. He wasn't just going to take this without a fight. It was that same force that had driven him to the Alliance to begin with, that desperate need to _act_ that had led him to stand in this den. He was going to do _something_.

"I will prove I am more than I appear. Or I will die trying!" And with that, he gathered all his strength and tried to wrench himself free of the earth.

He hadn't expected it to _work_.

The whole den seemed to tumble in a circle around him, the earth grasping, shaking... then releasing. The next thing he knew Imam found himself slumped over a rock near the entrance, free of the shifting sands. "...I...?"

 _Well, well... maybe you_ are _interesting._ The lion's voice was almost amused. _You're not the type to do hopeless battles, you Ghostwalkers. Are you? Makes no sense to resist, to flee my grasp, in my den... but you struggle. You don't think it'll work, but you don't accept death. You fight back anyway. Maybe you're something better._

There was so much he wanted to say in response to that. So many questions, protests, agreements, arguments... but none of them came out. He just stared as the great machine's head lowered to watch him more closely.

 _My last cub was like you. More than he seemed, like the earth. You can only see the surface, but what does the surface tell you? Nothing. The truth is deeper._ A spectral form appeared between the lion's paws. Imam immediately recognized it for what it was—not a ghost but an echo, an imprint of sorts. A human, huge and muscular, laughing wildly as he performed some sort of dance; if he wasn't much mistaken, the humans referred to it as 'air guitar'. The echo faded, and Yellow Lion gave a low chuckle. _Even I couldn't take him seriously sometimes. But he put aside the games and the nonsense when called upon. He stormed into every battle with the implacable fury of earth, and in the end he died a hero._

Those last words settled on Imam's shoulders with the weight of three centuries, or was it three millennia? Was it more? This was the legacy behind this lion's bristling weapons and ancient scars. The legacy he dared believe he could honor.

"I understand."

 _Perhaps you do. We'll see._

"What more do you ask of me, great one?"

 _Well, unless you want me calling you 'runt' forever, maybe I'd better ask your name._

A hesitation. He'd already said that. But before he could argue the point, the truth of the question became clear. This, too, was a test. And this one he could pass without question.

He squared his shoulders and looked up into the lion's glowing eyes. "I am Imam, of the Voltron Force."

 _Ah!_ A deep rumble washed over the den. Yellow Lion was actually purring. _Yes, that sounds better. I think, Imam of the Voltron Force... we will be able to become friends._

The golden glow in the lion's eyes flared brighter, forming a cloud of energy that surrounded it, sinking into the holes in its armor and sealing them with new steel. The light didn't stop there, flowing down its paws and opening chasms in the earth. The chasms glowed with the same light, racing towards Imam, but this time he knew instinctively there was nothing to fear... as the cracks in the earth reached him they circled, bathing him in amber light, filling the darkened channels of his voltcom and more.

 _By all the ancestors..._

Light flared from the voltcom, traveling up his arm to replace his Academy uniform with a gray and yellow combat flight suit. Another flare solidified in his hand, forming a weapon—a boomerang with a bladed inner edge. That came as just one more shock today; the wraith scythe was a Ghostwalker ritual weapon. Had he not stepped away from his people to take this role?

Perhaps not. Perhaps the Lords of the Dead had not shunned him after all, but simply charged him with upholding a different ancient legacy. And he would honor this legacy, to his last breath.

* * *

Fun, Lance had said. The doors were supposed to be fun. Larmina didn't see a damned thing fun about them—well, the zip line had been okay, she guessed. But the shuttle it had dumped her into was just another dumb vehicle. Worse yet, an _automated_ vehicle, so not only was she stuck in its cramped confines, she had no control over where it was going.

Then the stupid thing had taken her underwater!

She hadn't opened her eyes again until the shuttle lurched to a halt.

Now she stepped out into Blue Lion's den, a cavern with wet sand giving way to the dark lake water off to her left. It seemed like a horrible place to leave something made out of metal for three hundred and fifty years. But there was the lion, sitting back on its haunches and gazing out over the water, a few holes in its flank clearly visible.

That was encouraging.

She circled around to the front of the craft. It was certainly big. The cavern was big too, yet she could feel the weight of the water above them pressing down. Still enclosed. Still trapped. She hated it here already.

For a moment Larmina looked up at the lion, its golden eyes dim. Empty. She scowled and returned her gaze to the sand, the waves lapping at her feet and its paws. This was ridiculous, wasn't it? Voltron was supposed to be a myth, and even if it wasn't, what good was _she_ going to be here? She couldn't fly. She didn't _want_ to fly. She'd wanted to join the military to get away from her parents, no doubt, but she hadn't anticipated they would get her shoved into a training program for some stupid _vehicles_.

And what was she doing here, just staring at another dumb, if fancy, vehicle... and just waiting? Almost as if she expected it to start talking to her or something.

 _As I will, once you're finished insulting me._

Larmina's eyes went wide. The voice was low, feminine, noble—and it hadn't come _from_ anywhere. It was just there inside her head, but she was certain she wasn't imagining it. "Um..."

 _Not the most eloquent greeting I've ever heard, but I suppose understandable._

Nope. This wasn't happening. She wasn't hearing this. That voice could not possibly belong to who or what she thought it belonged to...

A sense of an exasperated sigh filled her mind, and a low growl echoed through the watery chamber. _How long do you wish to stand there and stammer at me, cub? I have waited for mortal centuries, I can wait a few more minutes. But we have much work to do, and your time is far shorter than mine._

Slowly, eyes narrowed with disbelief, Larmina raised her head to Blue Lion again. And this time, the lion's eyes were glowing deep blue.

So what was worse than a dumb vehicle? A smart vehicle. This was so _not_ what she'd signed on for when she'd run off to the Academy.

 _Shall we begin?_

"Do I have a choice?"

 _If you did, would you take it? Would you turn away from me and abandon your world to the threat bearing down upon you?_

...That was a fair question. Also a pretty low blow. "...Fine, whatever, start talking. I'm listening."

Blue Lion tilted its head with a mechanical whirr, and gave a low growl. _It's intriguing, really._ _My last pilot came to me in reverence. She wished to protect her people, her world... wished to live up to the one who had flown me before, one who had fallen bravely in combat. She feared she might fail in her goals, and thus she feared me._ A shadowy figure shimmered into existence at the lion's feet, a familiar young woman with her head bowed; for a moment the ghost looked up, her eyes ablaze with determination, then she was gone. _But you! You come to me thinking all this is_ beneath _you. I'm amused._

"...That isn't what I was thinking at all," Larmina protested weakly. Not that she expected that was going to fool the ancient robot lion that was reading her mind, but what else was she supposed to do, agree with it?

 _Oh, of course it was. Own your fire, cub. It is why I called you to my ice_.

Well in that case... "Sure. I hate flying, I hate vehicles, I think this whole idea is ridiculous, so you called me in because that's what you want in a pilot. And _you're_ supposed to be the wise and logical part of this equation."

The lion made another odd growling sound; if she didn't know better Larmina would've called it a chuckle. _Yes. Because your strength lies in this, your ability to battle adversity. Now I challenge you, cub. Seize your destiny. The waters are calm; only turbulence brings them power. So fight me. Conquer your misgivings, and with them, conquer those who would destroy this world!_

A wave of sapphire light seemed to erupt from everywhere at once, washing over the lion and erasing the gouges and cracks in its metal body before crashing down on Larmina herself. Her Academy uniform gave way to one that was blue and gray, and lightly armored: made for a fighter, not just for a pilot. As if to back up that initial impression the rest of the light poured into her voltcom, sending blue energy through its darkened channels, flaring out in both directions to form a heavy combat staff.

"...I could get used to _this_ ," she agreed quietly, giving the weapon a few experimental flips in her hands.

Suddenly the closeness of the water didn't feel so oppressive anymore.

* * *

The shuttle hadn't exactly been built for an Ailurian. What around here was? It was still rather less cramped than a Gyrfalcon cockpit, and Bruno had watched in silent wonder as he sped beneath the forest, the grasping roots embracing the shuttle's path through the earth. It was fascinating to see how this Voltron had mingled technology with nature, when everything else he'd seen of the Alliance had been soulless steel.

Bruno was homesick, and had been almost ever since he'd first set foot on Earth. Lush Arus was better than that maze of metal, but not by much... he longed for the jungles of Ailouros, where he could bask in the shadows and life all around him. But it had set in just a little too late. He couldn't back out now, not once his gift for piloting became clear. Not with the hopes of all his people riding on his shoulders.

It was right there in his name. Brunaitha'elikosto'meshen'vel'thendrig: _the star which shines as a beacon through all attempts to snuff it out_. He'd assumed that to be his destiny, to light a path for his people no matter how much he may hate it himself.

Destiny, perhaps, wasn't quite so cruel a master.

Green Lion's den was dark and cool, a wind whispering around its edges despite the enclosed space. Everything around him was so wonderfully alive—the moss on the ground, the thick wooden walls, the forest that spread from the mouth of the den as far as he could see.

In the midst of it all, the battered Green Lion was curled up in the center of the den, eyes dim in the silent darkness. Bruno stood at a respectful distance to study it. His initial impression of the lions had been wrong, if this one was anything to go by: 'beautiful' didn't begin to cover it. Even shut down and badly damaged, the lion was absolutely majestic...

"So now what?" he murmured to the zephyrs.

 _A very good question, if I do say so myself. Step closer, little one. Let me see you._

Bruno hesitated. The voice was gentle, bell-like, a whisper on the breeze. He'd expected something different... and yet its commanding force had him stepping forward before his mind consciously registered the action.

Powerful. Yet deceptive.

 _Yes. Brute force is not our way._

He blinked. "You..."

 _You stand in my realm. Your mind is open to me_. An emerald glow sparked in the great lion's eyes, and a similar glow gathered around Bruno, a soft wind ruffling his fur. _And a curious mind it is, little cub._

He couldn't help a slight growl. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 _It was not an insult._ The light was coalescing into dancing tendrils of emerald, swirling around him, the wind picking up. _Ah... to compare you with my former cub. Like dawn to dusk. But such is our way; we live deep within the cycle. Do you understand?_

She was speaking in riddles, and Bruno didn't much care for riddles, but he was pretty sure 'no' was not the correct answer here. "Maybe you'd care to explain it to me? To be sure we're on the same page."

A songlike breeze echoed over the cavern; she was laughing at him. _Ah yes, perhaps I would! Clever. You are not so unlike my last cub after all... but then, dusk and dawn are simply different forms of the same twilight._ A ghostly human form darted before the lion, young and wild, his cheerful eyes seeming to meet Bruno's for an instant before vanishing. _Mine is the heart of the gale, and the soul of the forest. My last cub bore the winds, his mind as sharp as his claws. We were swift and deadly, unstoppable. In the tragedy of his loss, the cycle turned... I seek one now who can bear not the winds, but the unfathomable mantle of life._

When she put it that way, it _did_ make some sense. "I've been searching for life since I got here."

 _So you have. I heard your call, and I answered it... I did not choose you, little one. Not really. You chose me, as my cubs always do. Mine are the seekers, those whose hearts yearn for something more. Those who would escape the yoke of expectation placed upon them._

It almost stung to hear her words. They hit too close to home, but they would, wouldn't they? She could see his mind, there were no secrets here. Only the acknowledgment of her truth. "Then you already know what I'm going to tell you. Don't you? You know how tired I am of that burden."

 _And will you accept the burden I offer to you in return? Will you stand in the shadow of the eternal winds, and protect the cycle which set your wild heart beating?_

Bruno nodded, looking up into the shining green eyes of the lion. "Gladly."

 _So be it. Step forward and show me your claws, little one. Show me the marks of your station, and all that you would offer..._

He blinked. The request seemed strange, but what about this wasn't strange? Taking another step forward he held out his hands, opening his palms to her as his claws extended.

The tattoos that ran down his arms began to glow faintly. Ancient Ailurian runes of faith and fortune, health and life, common among the warriors of his people for thousands of years. The marks of his station, he supposed...

A sudden blaze of emerald light erupted from Green Lion, matched by the light of his own tattoos burning fiercely. For a moment the energy joined the two of them together, wrapping him in a cyclone that seemed to fill the entire den—then he blinked and the sensation was gone, replaced with a warmth creeping over his fur.

As the gouges in Green Lion's armor repaired themselves, Bruno's own 'armor' changed too, his Academy uniform giving way to a similar uniform in green and gray. The light surging around him began to settle on his forearms, flowing into the voltcom and setting its darkened energy channels alight before it solidified into a pair of spiked gauntlets. He startled, flexing his fingers experimentally, finding the new weapons didn't at all impede the use of his own claws.

Raising his head again, eyes wide with wonder, he realized he could _feel_. The life he'd been so wistfully observing was resonating with his own energy, the forest's power piercing the den walls to settle on his shoulders. And the terrible weight that had rested there since he set upon this path suddenly seemed to fade away.

Yes... he would bear this mantle of life, and he would carry it proudly. The light he would shine for his people would be brighter than he'd ever imagined.

* * *

A volcano.

A volcano!

Of course it was a volcano. Of course someone, at some distant point in history, had decided the best way to reach the giant robotic fire demigod was taking a shuttle through a glass tube surrounded by magma. Whoever it was had clearly been a brilliant engineer... but maybe without a whole lot of common sense.

Vince could already feel Red Lion's presence as the shuttle lurched to a halt. Surely he had to succeed in whatever trial this was, didn't he? The connection had already been made.

Oh, he could probably find a way to screw this up...

That seemed to be a theme. It was a wonder to Vince that he'd managed to keep his place in the Panthera Squadron, though maybe that was being a little harsh. His powers could do miraculous things. The problem was just that they tended to do it on their own, without cluing him in on exactly _how_ he'd achieved those miracles.

It wasn't actually his powers that had gotten him into the program—they hadn't even started to crop up until he'd been shipped to Arus. He was perfectly competent without them. But the price of the new unexpected successes was the occasional total fiasco. Like shorting out the entire sim room the first time he was about to get shot down. Or somehow reprogramming an evaluation robot during a test he'd forgotten to study for.

Or, well... his datapad setting bullies on fire. Maybe Red Lion wouldn't see that one as a negative?

He could see it now, sitting sphinxlike on an obsidian platform surrounded by lava; it looked a little worse for wear, but more than imposing enough despite that. An obsidian bridge led from the shuttle to the platform, and for some reason the convection didn't fry him the second he stepped out. Probably the same reason it hadn't fried him inside the _glass freaking tube_. He'd love to meet whoever had designed this, and ask for all their secrets after smacking them on the head.

The energy swelling within the depths of the volcano rose up to meet him, and somehow he wasn't the least bit surprised when the great metal beast stirred. A little more surprising was the low, warm voice that echoed in his mind. _So. At last we meet._

Okay then. "Um. Hello?"

 _...How interesting_... Red Lion raised its head, peering at him as its eyes glowed crimson. _Such a timid little kitten enters my den, but he holds fire within. He trembles beneath my gaze, yet walks through my flames without realizing what he should fear._

Vince paused. "Oh trust me, the flames are exactly what I've been worrying about. Up until now, I mean." Slightly after the words came out, it occurred to him maybe he should be a little bit more deferential towards the giant robotic fire demigod looking at him like a bite-sized snack. "Uh... with all due respect, Your Fieriness."

The lion gave a low, sharp growl, yet the sense in his mind was far more amusement than annoyance. Did giant robotic fire demigods laugh? _Peace, kitten. My words are not a threat. But do you think your body is what you risk by standing before me?_

Well... "Lance did say he was waiting to see how many of us come back in one piece."

 _Ah, I see. He always did have a way with words_. The ruby glow of the lion's eyes intensified. _No, your life is in no danger, save for all you have known until now._

Oh. Well when he put it that way it... didn't sound the slightest bit less worrisome. "Are you sure you want me? I mean, not that I'm not honored and all that, but things kind of have a way of getting weird when I'm around."

 _Of course they do. Why else do you imagine I called you here? I know what you are, even better than you do. I know... my past pilots have all burned with my flame. But it has been a long time since one shared my blood._

"Your blood?" Vince repeated. Looking down at his hands he saw a halo of energy gathering, though the usual brilliant white light was tinged with flame. "I... I don't understand..."

 _Do you not?_

Realization struck. That jolt when Lance had handed him his key, a feeling of intense familiarity. The fact that the history of his own people was so shrouded in mystery. And the energy that flared uncontrolled inside of him, a power even the Technomancers couldn't explain. "...No way... that... that can't be, that's not possible, is it?"

 _Why do you resist, kitten? Why speak of the possible, as if it changes what is true?_

Somehow Vince was pretty sure that the answer he wanted to give wasn't the one Red Lion wanted to hear. It wasn't possible because it was ridiculous, that was why! His people practically worshiped technology, if they had any relation to the legendary Voltron he'd _know_. They'd have said so. Over and over and over again.

And yet...

"These powers," he whispered, flexing his fingers. "They only manifested when I came to this planet. Was it because of you?"

 _Yes. Power speaks to power. Even as we slept, you felt our echoes, and I dreamed of the day you would walk the flames at my side. Now, I awaken. You must do the same._

Vince swallowed. "Awaken? I don't even know how to use my own power, and you expect me to be part of Voltron? The one part of Voltron that has to deal with your old pilot breathing down my neck, no less!"

 _And therein lies the true risk you take, my kitten: not to your body, but to the spirit that is kindled within you. Your path is unique. My brothers and sisters wake now in their own dens, judging your brethren. Testing their worth to replace the dead and the lost_. A low growl. _But your predecessor still lives, his flame burning on the mortal plane. Will you rise to this challenge, the birthright that flows through your veins? Will you prove your worth, not only to me, but to the legend who watches you take up his sword?_

Didn't ask for much, did he? Vince swallowed and took a step back, but his hands were still stubbornly glowing. "I want to," he acknowledged, shivering despite the den's heat. "I want to be that strong..."

 _That is the first step. The others we will take together._

Suddenly the heat of the den became suffocating—no, it wasn't the heat, it was the _power_. The silver aura that had covered his hands shot over his body, turning as red as the lava around him and leaving behind a red and gray flight suit as it erupted throughout the den. Red Lion's damaged armor drew the power into it, the jagged wounds healing before his eyes.

"Dude..."

As Red finished healing, the crimson energy in its eyes erupted, streaming into his voltcom like a flurry of falling embers. The dull energy channels lit immediately, and something solid took form in his hand. Hand to hand combat had never been Vince's strong suit, yet the energy was generating an ornate mace in his grasp... or not, he corrected as sharp spikes solidified over its head. A morningstar, then.

...A morningstar? But of course. Why _not_ a morningstar? What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

Well, he was in now. Time to see what he could do.

* * *

There was no way he could take it in all at once, but Daniel was certainly _trying_. The trip to the den was a blur—the rush of air as the zip line carried him down the chute, the shuttle streaking through a tunnel lined with bright lights and arcing metal. But even then it wasn't fast enough.

Daniel was growing up in the wrong time, he'd always been certain of that. The Alliance had been at peace since smacking down the Elvons, with no real danger in sight. But even the Elvon War had been _boring_. What were a bunch of ordinary battleships compared to legendary robot lions?

Not much, that was what.

The only way to get an adrenaline fix in the modern Alliance was to go fast. That was why he'd signed on for the scouting program: they had the fastest ships, not to mention being the most likely to see combat. Blowing up a few deep space pirates would be better than nothing at all. But it had always seemed so hollow. So he'd spent his time sneaking around the training complex, stealing away from classes that weren't going to help him in the cockpit, breaking into the sim room in the middle of the night or daydreaming about times when there'd actually been something to fight for. Imagining against all odds that somehow, someday, his dreams of Voltron would be made reality.

And suddenly, there was Lance McClain.

Everything Daniel had ever dreamed of had come true so quickly, and now surely all that was left was to take what was his... the shuttle's brakes kicked in, and he vaulted out almost before it had come to a full stop. The den was a large rectangular structure; he suspected it was actually the lion statue's pedestal, judging from the cobblestone walls. But all that was secondary to the dark silhouette at the center of the chamber.

Black Lion's armor was covered in holes and dents, but it sat tall and proud in its place, dim eyes peering down at him. Even Daniel was stunned briefly by the great lion's sheer size, the noble set of its jaw and the power of its presence...

Briefly.

"...This is so cool!"

He ran up to the lion, reaching out to touch its huge claws, and yelped as a jolt of electricity knocked him back.

 _I will respond to rudeness with rudeness, mortal. Learn that swiftly._

Daniel froze, struck as much by the force of the voice as the shock from its claws—a low, sharp roar, like a thunderclap echoing in his head. "Wh... you.. you talk?"

 _No! I am an auditory hallucination generated by your own crossed circuits, and your madness is why I called you here! Of_ course _I speak. What do you take me for, mortal? Mere steel and machinery?_

...Had a mythical robot lion just snarked at him? He was pretty sure a mythical robot lion had just snarked at him. "I uh..." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, trying to find an answer that wasn't going to get him zapped again. "I guess I hadn't really thought that far ahead?"

 _Oh, you have not thought ahead, have you? I am no fool. You have thought well ahead, but your thoughts have been only of yourself._

Gulp. This was going beautifully so far. "Well, um..."

 _But perhaps I am too harsh. Perhaps there is another you've thought of. One who battled in your distant past... yes?_ The lion's eyes flared with brilliant silver energy, tinged in electrical blue and violet. _My former knight was brave. Proud. All bowed to him, all held him in awe. You would wish to have his glory. You would stand before your people, and look down upon them as they cheer your name._

Daniel blinked. It all seemed perfectly reasonable, but the lion's voice sounded more reproachful than any lecture he'd ever gotten from an angry instructor. "Well, I mean... yeah. What's wrong with that?"

 _Arrogant cub! You see the ends where you should be seeking the means. You have the will. But you do not know the way._

...Oh. Well, his imaginings generally _were_ about victory, not training. Learning to actually do the job was a thing. "Okay. So you're going to show me the way?"

Snarl. _I will show you nothing, mortal. All that my former knight had, he earned for himself... including my respect. Can you do the same? Or will you wrap yourself in your fantasies, and imagine you are_ owed _the destiny you desire? You've shown me nothing to respect thus far._

For a moment Daniel's irritation outweighed his nervousness, and he scowled up at the glowing eyes. His daydreams of Black Lion certainly hadn't given him this kind of browbeating. "Hey, _you_ were the one that brought me here. Was it just to give me a lecture? That seems like a waste of both our time."

The lion snarled again, driving him a few steps back. Then, to Daniel's own great surprise, the growl became a low sound of agreement. _No. I brought you here because your spirit sang at the thought of our awakening. When weapons and tactics fail, it is faith that endures; thus no mortal without faith in the Defender's legend could hope to command its might. Selfish as you seem, your ambition lies not in conquest, but within the Defender's heart._

A shadowy image rippled into existence between the lion's paws, a tall man Daniel had seen in a thousand archives, a thousand more daydreams. The apparition's stern gaze settled on him, lingering for a long moment before fading away. And in that moment, frozen by the eyes of his predecessor, it all seemed to fall into place.

"You wanted me..." His voice came out in a whisper. "You wanted me because I can't have what I've dreamed of unless Voltron wins."

 _That is one way of putting it._ The lion tilted its head. _Great potential lies buried within you, cub. Allow it to swell, as tiny droplets form the mightiest stormclouds, and in time you will have all that you seek. But first you must understand when to look up, rather than looking down._

So there it was...

His destiny wouldn't be handed to him. But it was there waiting, just as he'd thought when he first stepped into this den. All he had left to do was take what was his... but it wouldn't be his until he proved worthy of taking it.

He could do that. "I understand."

 _Prove it._

Daniel hesitated. How was he supposed to do that? But then, maybe... he dropped to his knees before the lion, raising his head to meet the great glowing eyes. "I understand. I'll learn from you, Black Lion. I'll do whatever it takes."

 _We shall see, cub_... Another low growl. _We shall see. The universe is watching. Succeed, and you will be the greatest of heroes. Fail, and there will be no one left to forget your name_.

A bolt of lightning erupted from the lion, striking his voltcom and filling it with that same electrical energy. A tingling sensation shot up his arm and over his body, replacing his cadet uniform with an armored gray and black flight suit, then gathering at his hands and feet to solidify into glowing claws.

He was still taking it in when a second strike followed. The force of this one brought him to his feet, drawing his attention back to the lion—lightning was dancing over its armor, sealing the breaches, filling in the dents until the great lion looked as good as new.

With a grin, he stood as straight as he could, saluting the lion with his own sparking claws.

 _His_ lion.

* * *

A tall young Drule strode through the corridors of the _Hellbringer_ , the flagship of the Empire's fleet. There was a certain aura of contradiction about him; though he greeted those he passed with a respectful nod, nearly everyone looked away in fear rather than returning to the gesture. It was easy enough to guess why. Though his jet-black skin and silver hair more reflected whatever nameless concubine had mothered him, he had inherited a more than a trace of his father's sharp features.

Serek, Prince Imperial of the Drule Empire, could only sigh at the reactions of the crew. Oh, he was well used to them by now. Didn't mean he had to _like_ them. But what else could really be expected? Any lesser servant who dared to look Kargil in the eye in such encounters would probably lose their head for their audacity.

It had been the same aboard the _Summoner_. He'd insisted on accompanying the scouting warships to ground, but he'd truly only wanted to observe. The ship's proper crew seemed to think it meant they had to run every action by him first. Not very practical, and certainly not encouraging.

Maybe his next assignment would be a little less depressing. From what he'd heard of the human collaborator's first audience with the Emperor, he wasn't one to be intimidated. Perhaps much the opposite.

The man who called himself Zeliax had been given the smallest quarters on the ship, of course. A calculated insult. There were better accommodations available. When he pressed the entry request the door simply slid open—another sign of Kargil's distrust. No, the collaborator wasn't going to have any real privacy. Not necessarily a bad idea, but not the most honorable way to go about it, either.

Immediately the cloaked figure on the other side of the door turned to face him. He'd been standing at the room's main console, though whatever he'd been looking at winked out of existence as he turned.

Frowning, the prince studied the stranger carefully. Curiously. He was rather small, though his leather armor showed the power of his muscles clearly where his cloak did not cover. Not to be underestimated as a physical force. But more important than that, the prince could see all too well what the guards had been whispering about. This slim figure radiated danger, somehow.

He was intriguing.

Staring too long without a word would be terribly rude, of course. "Lord Zeliax?"

A slight shift. In the murky shadows beneath the stranger's hood, Serek could detect a frown forming, the motion clear if the features were not. "There's no need to try to flatter me with titles. Zeliax will do. Who are you?"

 _He comes bearing the name of a god, yet rejects titles._ Very _intriguing_. "I am Pr..." He paused for a moment, reconsidering the words. "My name is Serek. My father has ordered me to be your aide."

"You mean his spy."

That hadn't taken long. "Of course not! I said no such—"

"Please." Zeliax's voice became scornful. "Let's have no illusions here, Prince Serek. The Emperor did not assign his son to me as a gesture of goodwill. He knows nothing about me, he doesn't trust me, and he wants you to keep an eye on me and report back." He crossed his arms. "I have no quarrel with the situation. Had he done otherwise I'd question his fitness to run a lemonade stand, let alone an empire. So let's dispense with any pretenses, shall we?"

This wasn't at all what Serek had been hoping for, as first impressions went, and he had no idea what a lemonade stand was but doubted it was relevant. "...Of course, then, my lord. I've been sent to mind you, but I _am_ also at your service."

Scowl. "Very well... tell me about the ship, then. I've studied all there is to be found in Alliance space, as far as Drule technology, but I'm sure you've made advances since your last appearance in our sector."

Serek grimaced, motioning for the strange man to follow him. A tour had been part of the plan anyway. "Fewer than you'd think."

"Is that so?"

"Sadly true. It all goes back to the Zarkonian and Lotorian wars, which I'm sure you are well familiar with... your Alliance collectively calls them the Doom Wars, if I'm not mistaken?"

"I... yes, as you say. I'm quite familiar with those conflicts." Zeliax's tone dripped with disgust. "And I'll thank you not to call it _my_ Alliance."

That was interesting. Probably pertinent, even. Serek filed it away to mull over later. "King Zarkon's madness drove the empire to the edge of ruin, and King Lotor pushed it over. Their actions threw us into a new dark age, and their successors were too terrified by the thought of war to even invest in rebuilding our defenses." His eyes glowed faintly. He did not envy the rulers of the years after Galra, the series of caretaker kings known as the Wardens. But at the same time, he could hardly respect them. Not when they'd crippled the defenses of their own people. "We have made some advances since my father rebuilt our forces. But in many areas, we still aspire to the levels of the past. Even the technology to create robeasts is a recent rediscovery—the occult scientists were purged after King Lotor's defeat."

"Indeed..." His companion fell silent, taking everything in as they moved through the corridors.

Where the crew had tried to avoid Serek's gaze, upon seeing both him _and_ Zeliax they outright scattered until the coast was clear. The prince sighed again. No sense trying to fix the issue; his father was perfectly happy being feared, and wouldn't at all appreciate Serek undermining that. Instead he decided to try to make conversation, since he would be spending a fair bit of time with the collaborator. May as well establish a good working relationship. Besides, he was curious about the human. The Drule Empire had always seen the Alliance as a paradise just out of their reach; one of that paradise's own working against it seemed to defy all logic.

"If I may, L... Zeliax? What brings you to the Empire's service?"

Snort. "I suppose telling you I want Voltron destroyed will only encourage you to ask more questions."

...Well then. Yes, he'd gathered _that_ much when his father gave him the assignment. "It would indeed. I suppose you'd refuse to answer them."

Zeliax tilted his head, halting before the doors to an ammunition bay. "You're an unusual one, aren't you? Curiosity is not what I'd call a traditional Drule value."

It was Serek's turn to scowl, just a bit. "Don't mistake our warfleet for our culture. Though no, the military is not encouraged to ask questions. I have a certain range of extra freedom in that regard... and I believe a warrior should always seek to expand his knowledge."

"Admirable enough." The cloaked figure began walking again. "You call yourself a warrior, not a soldier."

"Is that significant?"

"Is it?"

Shrug. "A soldier swears to follow the orders of his commander. A warrior swears to protect his people. The two are far from mutually exclusive."

Did Zeliax flinch at that, or was it just his imagination? "An intriguing distinction, especially from an invader. But I have no reason to question your self-image at this time." He sounded like he wanted to say something else, then shook his head. "In any case, let's move on."

"Of course."

Only then did it occur to Serek that he'd let that discussion circle to be about _him_. This Zeliax was a wily one. Clearly he was going to have to be more careful...

For now, he continued the tour. There would be plenty of time to try again.

* * *

Lance was pacing Control, waiting. He really hated waiting. Technically he probably could've tapped into the den security feeds, assuming they still worked, but that felt wrong somehow... the judgment of the lions was a very personal thing. Keeping tabs on the cadets would feel too much like intruding.

Besides, whether he watched or not wouldn't change anything.

After half an hour or so, Kasun came to join him, looking around the otherwise empty control room with a question implied in her eyes. He didn't answer it; he was still a little annoyed with her. Let her ask if she wanted to know that badly.

"...So, how are things progressing?"

"The kids are off meeting the kitties. I'm working on the assumption that none are going to get eaten, but you've got plenty of students left just in case, right?"

The Sky Marshal stared at him blankly. "I, ah..."

"Joking, Boss Lady. Joking. The lions do not eat people; they are made out of metal." At some point she was going to have to get used to his sense of humor, wasn't she?

She scowled, but was spared from responding when Blue Lion's chute opened up, admitting Larmina looking an awful lot different from when she'd left.

... _Oh hey then!_

"Well, look who's back!" He studied her closely, a little surprised by the flight suit she'd popped back up in. It wasn't quite the same as the ones his own team had worn—there were some distinct elements of the Academy uniform mixed in with the familiar blue and gray. Did the voltcoms have fashion sense? He'd never really figured out how they generated half of what they generated. Maybe the source material was important.

All of that dwelling on the uniform was to distract him from the blue glow of her voltcom, looking so _wrong_ on someone that wasn't Allura. It wasn't really working.

 _Get used to it, dude. Part of the job. Pretty sure you should be glad Miss I-Hate-Flying got back okay, it means the others are probably..._ A faint surge of warmth cut off his thoughts, and he was certain his own voltcom flickered momentarily. _Vince?_

Larmina missed all his preoccupation, flopping down in a holo-chair and giving him a slightly smug look. "Blue seems nice."

This time he was the one bailed out by a chute opening up, Imam coming out of Yellow's still looking more than a little bit awed. Bruno, Daniel, and Vince followed in quick succession, each one displaying their own mix of wonder and self-satisfaction—none of which were especially surprising. And when Vince came in, that warmth sparked again.

It could've stung so badly to see someone else wearing his colors. But when Lance looked down at his own arm, the channels on his voltcom bore a soft red glow.

He grinned, murmuring under his breath. "Hey again, Red." Then looking up and returning to normal volume he swept his gaze over the cadets once more. One hurdle down. Quite a few yet to go, but one was a start. "Nice job, cubs. Looks like I'm not going to have to do annoying paperwork after all." He turned to Kasun and flipped a halfway sincere salute. "Sky Marshal, you have a Voltron Force."

 _More or less._

"Excellent." Most of the kids didn't seem to have noticed her until he spoke, judging from the way they all jumped to attention at the words. Lance snickered; Kasun arched an eyebrow and returned their salutes before focusing on him. "If you're satisfied with your team, we'll be pulling the bulk of our personnel out, then. I leave this facility in your hands, Commander McClain. We will be in close contact, and supply whatever you require, but from now on the reins are entirely yours."

 _Wait, what?_ Lance's eyes went wide. "Excuse me? You're just packing up and leaving?"

Kasun studied him carefully, then shook her head. "Yes and no, Commander. This training facility has served its purpose—it's now about to become ground zero in the new war against the Drules, and I don't think _you_ want hundreds of cadets underfoot for that any more than we do. The castle's own maintenance staff and the defense crews will remain, of course." Frown. "Besides, you wanted us to stay out of your way."

For just an instant, he was certain she looked smug. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe not.

"That's fine," Daniel piped up, because of course he did. Lance sighed but turned to look at him and was surprised to see he was still saluting rather than smirking. "We're ready for this, Lance. Trust us."

 _That's asking a lot._ But the lions seemed to approve, so why not? With a shrug, he turned back to the Sky Marshal. "Okay sure, go on. Get out of here."

Flying solo always had been Voltron's gig. Some things never changed after all.


	6. First Contact

Reawakening  
Chapter 5: First Contact

* * *

Kargil had summoned his advisors to him in his throne room; the _Hellbringer_ was no mere warship, after all, but a mobile palace fit for the emperor. He would not deign to appear on the bridge like some common soldier.

He looked over each of them in turn, eyes narrowed. Telok, the admiral of the fleet, stood at strict attention. He was old, his hair and skin nearly the exact same shade of gray; he'd been put in his position by Kargil's own father. But still, he was a fine soldier—clever, inspiring, and most importantly, _obedient_. He was also the only soldier in the entire fleet who bothered wearing his full dress uniform. Proper respect.

Next to him stood nearly his polar opposite, Sharilar, Witch-Primus of the Occult Colleges. The pale young woman was slouched with her arms crossed beneath her robes, looking bored with the proceedings. All that spared her Kargil's wrath was that he knew it was due to Telok's presence; she considered the conventional troops to be brainless ogres, but would show her emperor deference enough. He found her attitude somewhat endearing. A proper Drule commander must know their own superiority.

Slightly behind the two of them was Kaela, overseer of his spies. She had a gift for going unnoticed. Short and powerfully built, her slightly greenish eyes and spiked violet hair should by all rights have made her stand out, yet the emperor himself sometimes forgot she was there. Deeply unnerving... and her unfortunate tendency to think for herself meant he _needed_ to keep a close eye on her. But nobody else had wanted her job after the last two Overseers had been executed for disloyalty.

Off to the side stood Serek and his charge, the human collaborator. Zeliax. Kargil's lip still curled at the arrogance of the name, but now they would see how useful he was...

"Telok, what is the status of Arus' defenses?"

"A bit odd, sir." The admiral saluted, then frowned. "Our scouting incursion alerted them to our arrival, yet over the last day most of their forces have retreated from the planet. They don't seem to be ceding it, the civilians and automated defenses remain, but we aren't certain what to make of their troop movements."

Kaela shook her head. "Those aren't exactly troop movements. The humans were using the Castle of Lions as a training facility, and now they've chosen to evacuate the students. All reports indicate the force our scouting fleet engaged is the only true combat unit on-planet."

"And Voltron," Kargil prompted.

"And Voltron," she agreed. "As of yesterday's reports the lions hadn't been sighted, but we believe the evacuation confirms your source," she shot a disapproving look at Zeliax, "that they are preparing to reactivate it."

The collaborator didn't take the bait, or even indicate he'd noticed it, so the emperor turned his attention to his Witch-Primus. "We are prepared to deal with the robot, are we not?"

Sharilar nodded calmly. "The Circle is in place and ready to act, sire. Kaela's agents brought us back several samples of native wildlife. We are evaluating them now, and will have your first robeast ready within three days."

"Excellent." He nodded in satisfaction. "As our _esteemed_ new colleague tells us, Voltron is now to be commanded by ignorant children..."

Now Zeliax spoke. "Your pardon, Emperor. But that is not precisely what I said."

Serek was the only one of his command staff that didn't look surprised. The others hadn't met the arrogant creature before—and no Drule in their right mind would dare to interrupt the emperor, politely or not. Kargil glowered. "Pardon will be given if you explain precisely what you _did_ say, then."

"I said I'm sure I know more of Voltron than its new pilots do. And certainly they will lack full command of its secrets. But you must understand." He bowed his head slightly. "The cubs are not alone. One member of the previous Voltron Force was placed into stasis, and has been awakened to stand against you. The children will be inexperienced, but they will not be without guidance."

"Hmph." Telok shot the collaborator a derisive look. "So you're telling us you know more about Voltron than one of its own former pilots."

"A former pilot who was just that—a _pilot_. Do you know how your weapons actually work, Admiral? Or do you simply know how to command them?" Scowl. "The former Red Lion wasn't known for his technical mastery. If any of those who _had_ been had made it off Galra, the lions probably wouldn't have been locked in their dens for the last three and a half centuries."

Telok bristled, but Kaela raised a hand to calm him. "That is information of value. Our spies were able to tell us the lions had been sealed in their dens, but couldn't ascertain why. Do you know that as well?"

Nod. "The Battle of Galra drained Voltron's power greatly. The lions are weak, and may even still be damaged; that I can't say for certain, but they were when they were sealed."

"Excellent." Kargil bared his fangs. He'd heard what he wanted to hear, and now he'd had enough of talking. "Telok, have an attack prepared immediately."

Telok hesitated. "Sire, the bulk of the fleet is still recharging after the journey from the homeworlds, and the _Summoner_ and _Conjurer_ are repairing from the initial scouting run. We only have the _Mad Dog_ available for an attack."

The emperor sighed; he hated logistics. They were so inconvenient. Then again, the _Mad Dog_ was one of the most powerful ships in the fleet, a heavy carrier with a full complement of both screening and superiority fighters. "Send the _Mad Dog_ , then. You heard... Zeliax. The lions will be at a disadvantage, perhaps a great one. Launch the attack to take advantage of it, and do so _NOW_."

Nobody aboard the _Hellbringer_ would dare question that tone. "Yessir!"

* * *

Three hundred and fifty years later, Voltron still had a few surprises up its sleeve. That was good to know, at least.

Of course the lions had _fixed themselves_.

Unfortunately, Lance mused as he studied the first round of diagnostics, the repairs had only been physical. _Would've been way too easy if just throwing new pilots at them had fixed everything, wouldn't it? Of course it would_.

He'd sent the cadets out for the first time as soon as the sun came up. Theoretically they'd been covering the departure of the last personnel from the Castle of Lions complex. But now all of that was gone, taking the Fifteenth Strike Battalion along as an escort—Lance wouldn't have minded them sticking around a bit longer, really. _Oh well._ Just made it all that much more important to get the kids and the lions put through their paces.

Those paces were unimpressive, but it wasn't really their fault. The readouts were showing each lion at roughly half power, which was exactly where they'd been when they were sealed away to begin with. It didn't make any sense... the lions had _always_ recharged after battle by resting in their dens. Hell, they'd been drained totally dry by haggarium more than once, and they'd bounced back. Granted the damage Voltron had suffered on Galra had been something very different, but still.

What had gone so wrong?

The lions at half power were still a damn sight more impressive than any conventional fighter, even conventional fighters descended from Lance's own consulting project. The cadets looked like they were having a fine time taking them through the training course. Even Larmina, though she'd taken out at least half of the obstacles, was grumbling a lot less about flying.

Daniel was taking out a few obstacles too, though in his case it was less shaky flying and more being way too trigger happy. Lance hadn't actually thought there _was_ such a thing as being too trigger happy. But watching lightning arc through and vaporize yet another training minefield, he reconsidered. "Take it easy there, hotshot. Leave a few things for your teammates to crash into."

"Oh, come on! You can't send us out here to practice and then tell us not to play with the most epic firepower _ever_."

"Yeah, that's what you think now. Wait until you run into your first robeast, and you'll start to have a whole different opinion." Lance crossed his arms. "Listen to me, kiddos, and listen good. What you're seeing right now? It's nothing compared to what these lions are supposed to be capable of." Frown. "What they're going to _need_ to be capable of."

"Why is that, sir?" Yellow Lion was navigating one of the few minefields Daniel hadn't vaporized. "You said we needed to understand why Voltron was retired. Was it not the damage that we saw in the dens?"

Snort. "Not hardly. We held off on fixing the armor after Galra because the _real_ problem was making the lions hard to work with." He paused a moment, trying to decide—there were certain details of that battle which were not common knowledge, and really were much better off staying that way. He decided they probably weren't relevant to the cubs right now. "The final explosion crippled Voltron. The lions' spirits went dormant, and the Nexus was drained of its energy."

"The Nexus?" Vince repeated.

Lance made a mental note to start having some engineering classes. They had a lot of catching up to do. "Voltron's core; each lion has a piece, and when Voltron forms they join together. The Nexus is pretty much the driving force behind the whole thing. It's the heart, the programming, and the power core... and the power that was drained from it on Galra has yet to come back."

"...Oh. So long as it's no big deal." Red Lion fired a volley into one of the training targets, then hovered. "So what do we need to do to fix that?"

"If I knew that you'd be doing it already."

That wasn't the most encouraging answer, and it got him the surly response he'd expected out of Larmina. "Great, so you're throwing us at these things and they don't even work right? Real good planning there. Military intelligence at its finest."

She wasn't wrong. "I'm not sure if that last bit was supposed to be sarcasm or not, but if it was you haven't actually spent much time with military intelligence."

"Not sarcasm."

"Valid question though." Bruno had Green Lion on the ground, stalking between the empty buildings and stumbling every now and then. Flying he had down, but keeping the paws straight was giving him more trouble. "You said we're to fix it. What does that entail if you don't know how?"

Sigh. They kept insisting on asking him questions he didn't have good answers to. _Did we annoy Coran this much? ...Nah, probably more_. "In case you all hadn't noticed from the fact that you held coherent conversations before becoming spiritually bound to them, the lions aren't just any ordinary robots. You would be amazed at how much my team learned about them just by flying and letting things go wherever."

"In other words," Vince translated, "we're winging it."

"Basically."

A pause over the comms. "...Works for me. Work for you guys?"

"Totally."

"Acceptable."

"Do we have a choice?"

"We will endeavor to succeed."

It was almost a relief to hear the alarms going off before anyone could ask anything else; the holotank sprang to life automatically, and turning from the main screen Lance took stock of the incoming ship that had penetrated the automated defenses. Just one ship? Odd _. Another scouting attack?_ Whatever it was the Drules certainly hadn't improved their aesthetics... it looked, in Lance's expert opinion, like the love child of a shark and a potato. But stupid-looking didn't mean it couldn't be dangerous. With Drules it was often the opposite.

Time to see how half-powered lions fared against a warship. "Heads up, kids. We've got company."

* * *

Larmina still didn't like flying. But if she had to fly something, Blue Lion was definitely the best option so far; the cockpit wasn't nearly as cramped as the sim pods or those awful Gyrfalcons, for one thing. For another, these lions packed a whole wing's firepower into one ship, each clearly designed to be lethal independently. That meant they didn't have much use for flying in close formation, and that was more than fine with her.

Of course, there _was_ a certain very close formation that the lions were kind of famous for, but she could worry about that when they got there. In the meantime she was going to enjoy the fact that she could fly wherever the hell she wanted, without worrying about crashing into someone else's wingtips ten feet away.

Of _course_ the Drules had to come and ruin it.

The warship they'd sent in today was large. Very large, actually. It probably could have eaten up both the ships they'd sent down last time and still had room for dessert. That metaphor might not have been as silly as she'd first thought, either, as at least a dozen large doors opened up in its hull and started spitting smaller craft out.

"More fighters?" Daniel asked as Black Lion moved ahead of the others. "I hope they've got good insurance on these things."

She rolled her eyes as she pulled Blue back. "From where? I know _I_ wouldn't give them a good rate."

"They'd have a hell of a deductible." Black roared and sprang forward. "Let's do some deducting!"

"Daniel, don't—"

Vince's warning came a little too late. It wasn't just fighters coming out of the larger ship after all; they were backed by a wave of what appeared to be large flying tanks, which promptly set on Black Lion as it broke from its cover.

"Nice going, dumbass." Larmina wasn't sure if she'd transmitted that or not and didn't particularly care. She was trying to line up a shot, but Black itself was in the way, being buffeted by the incoming fire and flailing against it. Then again, his flailing wasn't ineffective; the lion's claws cut one of the larger fighters to pieces, while he somehow managed to actually aim a few shock blasts from the tail at the smaller ones.

With a roar Yellow Lion charged in, bullets glancing off its heavier armor as Imam placed himself between his teammate and the enemy. "This is not a good start."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Daniel pulled back. "Okay, um. Those big ones are more dangerous than the little ones. Let's say they're the bombers."

"Ah..." Yellow whipped around to crack one of the larger ones straight through the nose with its tail. "Your pardon, but I do not think these are bombers. Or they are at least not doing any bombing."

"...Let's just call them that anyway, okay? They're big and nasty and we should probably take them out first, it's close enough. We can ignore the little ones because they're still terrible."

Larmina snorted, finally getting a chance to launch a few missiles as the attackers began to spread out. "Yeah, that's a great idea, just let them keep shooting us until they actually manage to do damage."

"Children!" Lance's voice crackled over the comms. "Haven't learned tactics yet, have you? Daniel, you take out the screening fighters. Stow the inevitable complaint. Larmina's right, they'll add up over time, and your chain lightning is best suited for the job. Vince, you're on the big ones. The rest of you, kindly focus your attention on the warship that's started bombarding ground targets while you all were arguing?"

Blinking, Larmina checked her sensors, which confirmed what the boss had just told them. The carrier had apparently finished launching its little minions and was now taking potshots at one of the complex's outlying buildings.

"Can't we let them have that one?" Vince suggested as Red Lion started pursuing the nearest bomber. "It's the math department."

"I sympathize. But no."

Larmina sympathized too, but she was a little preoccupied trying to move in on the Drule warship despite the fact that several waves of fighters were blocking her path. "How many of these things did they bring along?" She triggered Blue Lion's ice breath, knocking a few out of the way, but that got the others' attention. "Oh, great."

Suddenly Imam was _right_ in front of her, intercepting the incoming volley and firing several rockets back. "I will shield you, stay close."

 _Stay close_. Muttering a couple of her favorite Arusian curses, she made an attempt to do as instructed, and ended up running into Yellow's rear claws with her nose. Immediately a burst of indignation erupted in her mind. "Yeah, sorry Blue. Not that close, got it."

Communication with Blue Lion was a little bit weird now. No words, just those flickers of emotion that weren't her own. Lance had told them to expect that before they launched, that once established the bonds with the lions ran much deeper than mere _words_. But she wasn't sure she liked it. The confines of the cockpit weren't bad enough, now even her own mind had to be crowded with another presence?

She suspected Blue might be aware her discomfort. Or at least she didn't seem to have much to say when Larmina wasn't making a fool of herself in flight.

 _Stupid smart vehicles._

As if in response to her thoughts, all of her monitors abruptly went white with static. "What the...?" Jumping up to look out the tinted glass of Blue's eyes, she couldn't see anything that would account for it—though there _were_ a few fighters swooping in on her. "Oh, this is gonna suck. Blue, save the object lessons for later!"

This time the flicker of indignation was a little different. Blue wasn't doing it. Well, she supposed that ought to make her feel better... dropping back into her seat Larmina operated on reflex, pulling into the one evasive maneuver she was usually safe with. One that could get her away from everything: a dive.

Briefly she wondered if something in that reflex had helped make her suitable for the _water_ lion.

As she dropped the interference in her monitors lessened, until she could at least see the ground coming at her. Entirely too quickly. She wrenched up again with another flurry of curses, and was successfully climbing when her screens all flickered back to normal. Apparently her comms had gone out too, because they returned with a burst of static and Imam in mid-sentence.

"—seem to be coming from the Imperial ship?"

Bruno's usual low growl was almost shrill with embarrassment. "Sorry! My fault. Didn't expect my ECM to be _that_ strong. Think I've fixed it. Are you okay, Larmina?"

"I'm good," she acknowledged, sincerely if a little breathlessly. Getting her bearings back she realized two things about her current location. One, there were no fighters anywhere near her. And two, she had a straight shot at the underside of the Drule carrier. A wicked grin crept over her face. "...I'm _very_ good." Pulling to a halt, she hit pretty much every button on her weapons panel.

Ice, missiles, lasers, and what looked like little metal darts all slammed into the belly of the warship, leaving a massive crater in its armor. _Niiiice_. But the carrier didn't leave her much time to celebrate; a blindingly bright flurry of lasers stabbed down and nearly ripped off one of Blue's decorative wings. _Not so nice!_ With a growl of annoyance she hit the reverse.

The icon for a private channel opened up on her comms panel, letting Lance's voice through. "Don't back up, go in closer. Trust me. Their turrets aren't made to hit something right along their own hull."

 _Yeah right_. "Um, that's a great idea and all, except for the part where you want me right along their hull—"

"—Yeah, I've noticed, you don't like close quarters. What are you afraid of, crashing?"

Scowling and fighting off one of the bombers with a couple of ice breaths, Larmina barely dodged another shot from the carrier. "Have you _seen_ my combat logs?"

"Actually, yes. But here's another reason these lions are the coolest vehicles you'll ever drive: you're allowed to run into the bad guys. Matter of fact I'd encourage it. How else are you gonna use your claws and jaws?"

 _...Huh?_

He... kind of had a point there. Larmina drew back a little further, eyes narrowed as she studied the gouge she'd ripped in the warship. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I'm _always_ serious. Well, most always."

Snort. There were a few responses she wanted to make, all of which would probably get her in trouble, so instead she just sent Blue Lion lunging back up as fast as it would go.

 _CLANG_.

The impact rocked her lion, her bones, and probably rattled her brain in her skull a little bit too. But Blue's claws sank deeply into the weakened armor, anchoring her firmly in place, and she could see the flash of the warship's lasers arcing well above her.

"...Cool." Grin. "Let's do some _damage_."

* * *

If he were asked directly, Daniel couldn't really have said whether he was more annoyed at being relegated to fighter duty, or more annoyed that Lance had cut him off before he could even complain about it. Oh sure, it was important and reasonable and all that, but it was still basically flyswatting. He could've at least been allowed to lodge a protest and keep his dignity.

Black Lion did not approve of that attitude. He wasn't making any secret of it, either.

What Black Lion did approve of, what Daniel wasn't about to admit to anyone, was that fighter duty was _fun_. He darted straight into the spindly laser arms of another group, breathing a crackling pillar of lightning on the lead ship. The electricity shorted it out immediately and it fell... but that wasn't the fun part. The fun part was the unleashed lightning reaching out in all directions, seeking out the path of least resistance and finding the other large chunks of metal nearby.

One shot, one whole screen dropping out of the sky like rocks. Creepy-looking evil rocks. He took a moment to smirk and enjoy the victory, then went looking for a new target.

"Daniel. Vince. Can you cover us? These things are being kind of..." Bruno paused for a moment in his request as Green Lion flipped around one of the bombers, slashing half its fuselage into long metal ribbons. "...uncooperative."

Smirk. "You got it." Catching Vince moving in on his left, he flipped his teammate a thumbs-up through the window. Not for any particular reason, it just felt like a cool thing to do. Then he swooped in on a group of fighters that was chasing Imam and got to work lighting them up.

They were learning; they scattered when they saw him coming, and Black's lightning dissipated harmlessly after frying its initial target. The bombers seemed to be learning, too. Three of them came burning into the space their little friends had vacated, and they didn't go down near so easily, taking his cannon blasts in stride and returning fire with enough force to rock Black's frame.

Next to him, Red Lion lurched to a halt that didn't look entirely intentional, hovering motionless. "Vince? You okay over there? You're my wingman here, don't give out on me!"

No answer, but the lion's eyes flared silver, and with a roar it spat a stream of white-hot flame that vaporized the three bombers in front of them completely.

 _Holy crap_...

"Magic Man, _dude_." It was the second time he'd done that, so clearly he deserved the nickname. "That was sweet!"

"...Yeah... thanks?" He could see Vince through the cockpit glass, shaking his head a little. "Be better if I knew how I was doing it, but..."

Probably. But it was results that counted, wasn't it? "Details, details. Let's blow more stuff up."

After seeing Red's ginormous flame burst, a lot of the bombers seemed a whole lot less interested in being blown up, actually. Several scattered. A few fighters kept moving in, but there was enough of a gap for Bruno and Imam now; before the bombers realized their mistake and tried to move back in, Green and Yellow had clamped down solidly on the warship's armor, ripping into its bow as Blue kept working on its underside.

Daniel focused on a bomber moving through a fighter screen. _Bad move, dude_. A lightning bolt arced out of Black's jaws, doing a bit of damage to the bomber, but more importantly chaining to the fighters all around it. He was already lining up a followup shot on the larger craft when one of the disabled fighters literally fell on top of it, snapping a wing off and sending it plunging to the ground.

Fighter duty was _awesome_.

* * *

It seemed like his father had been too hasty. Serek couldn't quite claim to be surprised.

A series of holo-monitors ran halfway around the throne room, several feeds from the _Mad Dog_ and one from each of its heavy fighters. Or at least, that was how it had started. Quite a few of the monitor slots were now washed out in static. Too many too quickly, in Serek's opinion... Telok had been commanding from the bridge until the emperor had summoned him, and now was pacing before the throne in agitation. So he probably thought so too.

Kargil had his own opinions. "Is Captain Nareth utterly incompetent? Telok, order those scattered fools to regroup."

"Aye, sir." Even as he relayed the orders, another monitor winked out; the filming fighter had been destroyed.

Serek grimaced, looking over at Zeliax, sitting beside him with his eyes fixed on the monitors. "I thought the lions were supposed to be weakened?"

"They _are_ weakened. But this is still Voltron you're facing, not some base-frame deathtrap designed by the lowest bidder." He shook his head. "I'd hoped you might catch them still damaged, you might've had a chance then. Continuing the battle under these circumstances is foolish."

Telok looked up. "Sir, the lions are undeterred by our screens, and they've moved inside of the _Mad Dog_ 's firing arcs. The carrier is taking heavy damage."

The emperor slammed a fist down on the arm of his throne. "How dare they? How _dare_ they lay their filthy claws on a jewel of the Drule Empire's fleet?" His eyes took on a glow fierce enough that even the admiral recoiled. "Have all forces fall back to the _Mad Dog_. Form a wall of death against these _children_."

"Father..." Serek turned partly away from the screens; he didn't need to see the carnage playing out there anyway. "This attack was launched to exploit the lions' damaged state, and it turns out they are not damaged. Should it really proceed?"

"He's right," Zeliax agreed. "You can't win like this, Emperor. If your people don't retreat they'll only be slaughtered."

Kargil scoffed. "You expect warriors of the Drule Empire to retreat, Zeliax? You're a disgrace to the name you're borrowing. And Serek, _you_ of all people should know better. My forces will proceed! They will smite these pathetic excuses for the lions, and bring glory to my name!"

"Are you even watching..." Zeliax trailed off as an explosion rocked another monitor. "...If you must, flank them. Your forces _cannot_ win a head-on battle. The lions have immense firepower but it's nearly all forward-oriented, and that along with your numbers are your only advantages. Take their sides—mind the tails—and you might have a hint of a chance."

The emperor hesitated. After all, the collaborator's advice directly contradicted the order he'd just given, and he wasn't about to admit error so easily. But then another one of the cameras winked out, the fighter having been given a firsthand introduction to the Red Lion's flame breath. Kargil finally nodded. "Very well. Give the order, Telok. My forces shall surround the lions and deliver them death from all sides."

"Aye, sir."

The throne room lacked its own tactical display, though the main screen showed one transmitted from the _Mad Dog_. Serek watched the icons representing the fighter formations fan out into a rough semicircle around the three lions on the carrier. But despite the initial formation they didn't seem to be coordinating very well. Several immediately broke the circle to make runs against the two pursuing lions, most at least attempting to get around to their sides, but most also not making it. Others had better luck. A few fighters showed enough discipline to hold range with the other three lions, but the bulk of them got into position and began attack runs. The long distance weaponry of the superiority craft was nothing compared to the firepower they could bring to bear at short range...

They still weren't coordinating, though. Several swooped in on the Yellow Lion, which brushed off the attacks as if they were nothing. A few more attempted to hit Green Lion, but its sensor image faded and began flickering erratically; most of the shots actually hit the _Mad Dog,_ though those that did strike the lion seemed to pierce deeply. The Blue Lion seemed most affected by the strikes, but only a small handful of fighters had targeted it, and most were rewarded for their courage by the beast's tail whipping around to freeze them solid.

Still, it was a start. They'd done some damage. It would be a battle of attrition, but if they could keep adapting, they might just salvage this after all... no, he didn't even believe that thought as it crossed his mind.

"What are they _doing_ ," Zeliax hissed. "They're just rushing to their deaths."

That didn't help, though at the same time Serek found the complaint curious. For all he seemed to have studied their culture... "Our warriors are fearless, Lord Zeliax. To die for the good of the Empire is both honorable and glorious."

"Perhaps, but there's no glory in empty sacrifice. Throwing away your forces like this hardly advances your empire, does it?"

Serek hesitated. His father's stubbornness often outweighed his judgment, and the troops tended to follow his lead. "...Some of our forces may struggle with the tactics of caution," he finally admitted. Very quietly, so that the emperor couldn't possibly hear. He'd heard enough lectures on how caution was the first step to weakness. "Father recruited warriors to his cause by promising glory, so it is glory that his forces seek."

"At the expense of actually winning? That isn't dying for the good of your empire, that's subverting it."

"They are outliers! Look." He indicated a corner of the tactical display, where a detachment of fighters had circled around and was bearing down on the Blue Lion's exposed left side. "There are those who realize victory is paramount."

"Hmm." Zeliax tilted his head, watching the flanking unit. "I question which side of the equation is the outliers... and whose glory the rest are really pursuing."

That earned him a dark look. "I must suggest that you keep such questions to _yourself_ , Lord Zeliax." Serek was usually quite patient, and had to admit the cloaked man's observations were sound. But certain lines should not be crossed, and this implicit questioning of loyalty was one of them.

Shrug. "A question based on the observable data. You can count which ships are where for yourself."

 _Damn him anyway_... "I will not hear the honor of my fellow warriors attacked by one with so little honor he turns against his own people!"

"My people no longer exist."

Most of Serek's indignation melted away in a moment, pushed aside by the sheer shock of those words. "...What?"

"I was not unclear."

So many questions. So many things to ask, to demand to be told. Was the loss of his people why Zeliax had turned, or was he the cause of it? Who were they—who was he? But none of the questions would form themselves into words with any degree of tact, and another explosion from the monitors demanded his attention in any case. Part of the carrier's armor had given out.

"Sir." Telok looked up from his console. "The screens have seen over sixty percent casualties, the dogfighters even higher, and the _Mad Dog_ reports a hull breach. Captain Nareth requests permission for a tactical retreat."

"Retreat?" The glow of fury in the emperor's eyes became terribly vivid. "Did you not hear me before? You will kindly remind the Captain that he was given _one_ chance to prove his worth. If he can't handle the mission he was given, I have no need of him or his ship."

 _What?_ "Father!"

"Silence, Serek! There is no place in war for the weak!"

Even Telok seemed taken aback, and Telok didn't usually tend to counter his lord—he liked his job security. And his head. "Sire, I must remind you, you _are_ condemning a jewel of the Empire's fleet to fall before the filthy claws of the lions."

"Condemning? Hardly. I am giving them the chance for glory! But if Nareth cannot defeat these worms, then the _Mad Dog_ is no jewel of mine."

 _This is insanity_. Serek couldn't bring himself to look at Zeliax, even though the cowl hid most of the smugness that must surely be on his face. Perhaps he was more right than even he'd realized. _They die for the glory of the Empire, but the Empire does not honor their deaths. Our soldiers are not pawns to be spent like this... are they?_

Leaving the throne room wasn't an option, so the prince just turned fully away from the screens. If there was nothing he could do to stop the madness, at least he didn't have to watch.

* * *

His initial overzealous burst aside, Bruno was getting along much better than he'd expected to with Green Lion's electronic warfare systems. He'd never been much good with ECM on the simulators, but Green's felt so _natural_. Her place was to be as elusive as the winds that powered her. He wondered if she was even guiding his paws in battle... he had no complaints if she was, it felt entirely proper. As if he'd been meant to pilot this craft all along.

Which, given all he was learning about Voltron, might not be so far from the truth.

A massive explosion from the ship's underside had all the smaller craft scrambling for Blue Lion. A little too late for that, in Bruno's opinion. Still, he pulled Green's claws from the warship's hull and followed Black and Red to see what a mess Larmina had made.

It was a pretty good mess. Debris was still raining out of the breach she'd carved in the belly of the carrier, armor scraps and burning metal and... he grimaced, pretty certain there were more than a few flailing bodies. The enemy, of course. Still the sight sent a shudder through him.

"Ugh." Larmina confirmed it, Blue hovering and looking up into the breach. "Now I've got Drule all over my windshield. ...Uh, sorry Imam."

Yellow was the last to move beneath the warship, and Imam gave a noncommittal grunt. "I would expect you to be no less disgusted by any other being all over your windshield."

"...Yeah probably, when you put it like that..."

"Hey guys?" Daniel broke in. "Warship on top of us that isn't quite dead yet, wanna fix that first and _then_ worry about lion hygiene?"

"Why isn't it retreating? Or even moving?" Bruno wondered aloud. "Is the engine damaged? I'd expect a bit more fire."

Vince fielded that. "The engine's fine, if I'm reading these scans right. It probably stopped while you guys were attached to it to give the bombers stationary targets. Something that big takes awhile to get moving again. Daniel's right though, we might want to finish it off while we have the chance."

"That is done easily enough," Imam agreed. "I believe Yellow Lion's armor is best suited for the task, so I will go and correct the lack of engine damage." With that his lion sprang up _into_ the breach, starting to claw its way through the ship's internal structure.

"...That dude is _hardcore_ ," Daniel whispered admiringly.

Lance's chuckle came over the comms loud and clear. "I'm glad to see you're all getting the hang of this. Vince, go with him. The rest of you will have no business anywhere near the giant fireball they're about to make, so mop up the rest of those fighters and try not to get yourselves shot down on the brink of victory, huh?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lance." Black Lion turned away from the breach as Red followed in Yellow's wake. "Hey Catman, you wanna do that decoy thing again?"

Bruno found the name 'Catman' vaguely amusing—it wasn't creative, perhaps, but it was far from the worst thing he'd been called at the Academy. Besides, the rest of the offer sounded fun. "Let's." Pulling away from the warship he oriented himself on the rest of the support craft, which seemed to be gathering for one last stand. And he sprang.

Green Lion didn't corkscrew very well—he'd figured that out doing maneuvers earlier. What she _could_ do was leap through the air as if leaping from rock to rock on the ground, creating a flight path that was impossible to anticipate. The fighters made an attempt to track him but overcommitted, allowing him to get behind the screens and fall on the few remaining bombers with everything Green had.

...Not a whole lot of it actually hit, because aiming had never come as naturally to him as evasion, but he had their _attention_ now. Unequivocally.

Behind him Daniel was making good use of the distraction, lightning tearing through the ill-fated fighter screens as they tried to reorient. Larmina had moved too, taking Blue Lion into another dive, and now was launching missiles from well below the battle into the scattering bombers.

Right around then, the carrier exploded.

"Brace yourselves!"

The warning was entirely too late to do anything with; the shock wave slammed into Green from the side, obliterating what was left of the support craft and flinging his lion into a wild tumble for a few hundred meters. It was all he could do to keep his paws on the controls, never mind watching his monitors, but he was pretty sure from all the cursing on the comms Daniel and Larmina were having a similar issue.

By the time he could finally refocus on the displays, there was nothing left in the sky but the burning remnants of the carrier, with the battered Yellow and Red Lions floating silhouetted against the flames.

He moved to regroup; it seemed like the natural thing to do. For a minute that felt much longer the five lions just hovered there, the pilots staring at each other through the glass of the metal beasts' eyes. The adrenaline of battle was crashing, and quickly. Vince finally broke the silence. "Is it just me, or was that... a little bit too easy?"

"Not just you," Bruno agreed, pushing Green forward to hover next to him. "They had no harmony with each other. And their equipment wasn't much to speak of either."

Lance's voice came over the comms. "Boss Lady said this Emperor Kargil pushed his attack ahead of schedule. Maybe tactical pilot training was one of the things they slacked off on, judging from that display. And _yet_ , you're all out there full of holes."

"I wouldn't call these holes," Daniel protested. "Dents maybe, but not holes."

"Yeah, well you called those big fighters bombers, too. Bring it in, cubs. Tonight you get to learn how to repair these lovely giant robots! Because I'm pretty sure you all know what you just fought is barely a warmup."

"They will send robeasts," Imam declared. "Especially with the loss of their carrier, they will know our strength now."

"Exactly."

 _Robeasts_. Bruno had only even read about them recently. Weapons unique to the Drule Empire, horrible fusions of flesh and machinery. They weren't just evil, they were abominations, a perversion of all nature and all life.

"They will send such monsters for us," he murmured to the cockpit as he turned back towards the forest. "But they'll fail. Creation won't abide such blasphemy." Frown. "Is that what you meant, Green Lion? That we defend the cycle?"

He felt a sense of agreement and contentment flowing through him, and sank back into the seat to take it in. This was the direct opposite of a robeast, really. Flesh and machine bound together, but in unity and cooperation, sharing their place rather than being forced together by dark magics.

A great war was coming. A war against forces anathema to nature. Bruno was ready.


	7. Rebirth

Reawakening  
Chapter 6: Rebirth

* * *

Imam had, soon enough, found his way to the crypts. It was a powerful experience, walking the damp hallways and feeling the embrace of their ancient wisdom. Fifty generations of Arusian royalty called this castle their eternal home, and the scale of it nearly overwhelmed him. But it was peaceful, as it should be. A place of rest and comfort.

The room he'd sought out was different than the others. Special. A circular chamber in the heart of the catacombs, with five tombs arrayed in a perfect star. Each was carved of pure white marble, and each was trimmed in a different color: black, red, green, blue, and yellow. He knew the stories that belonged to these ghosts, he'd researched them carefully. These tombs were the final homes of the galaxy's greatest heroes.

Well, most of them.

Not the red one, of course. Not yet. Lance wasn't _dead_. But it was good that the tomb rested here, waiting. Promising that someday his soul would have a home to return to, here with his brothers and sister in arms. To a Ghostwalker such things were critical; it surprised and impressed him that humans would've had such foresight.

As was only fitting, the black tomb was the first where he paid his respects. Set into the lid was a heavy band of black steel, electric-blue lines tracing through it. Keith Kogane, the last Commander of the Voltron Force, a legend even among legends. Despite Voltron's retirement he'd died in glory, singlehandedly putting an end to a brutal insurrection: though well into his eighties, he'd challenged the leaders of the rebellion to duels, a dozen warriors not even half his age. And he'd dispatched every one before finally succumbing to his own injuries. Such strength and valor could never be replicated, could they? Still, they could be aspired to.

He moved counter-clockwise, touched the lid of the red tomb, and murmured a prayer for health and life. Death was not to be feared, but it wasn't to be rushed, either.

Next was the blue tomb. Queen Allura was the most beloved ruler in Arusian history, and how could she not be? She had rebuilt her world from the ashes, battled fiercely on their behalf, and ruled with unmatched grace and wisdom until quietly passing away on her hundredth birthday. She had been the last queen of Arus as a whole; the intergalactic power she'd built defied any individual effort to command. Her heirs had split it into the ten royal districts, united in what had been named the Queen's Council in her honor.

For the moment he bypassed the next tomb, coming instead to the last of the five. The green tomb was empty for less benign reasons. There was no voltcom, no body. There had been nothing left, and that bothered Imam deeply. Pidge Stoker, the green pilot... where was he now? Had his bond to Green Lion summoned him here to rest regardless, or did his spirit still wander Galra, lost in the wake of his sacrifice? It was a terrible reality of war. Too many ghosts never found their way home.

Finally he returned to the yellow tomb. It had the same indentation in the lid as the others, but at first glance it too seemed to be empty. Only a close look would reveal the metal fragments scattered in the hole, a hint of gold barely visible on the largest piece. He came to this one last, and lingered here the longest, because this was where his predecessor rested... or at least the few bits of ash that were left of him. Hunk Garrett, whose legacy Imam could only hope he proved worthy to uphold.

Murmuring in the ancient ritual tongue of the Ghostwalkers, he rested his hands on the great golden lion carved into the tomb. "Fallen spirit, look upon me, smile upon my task... I beg your legendary strength to bolster me, that I may honor your name among the living."

Though he was far from skilled enough to actually _speak_ to any ghost, Imam was pretty sure he felt a sense of confidence wrap around him. Maybe it was just Yellow Lion. Maybe it wasn't.

Bowing to the tombs again, he backed out of the room, so as not to turn his back upon the dead he'd come to honor. Paying his respects was necessary. Now it was time to fulfill his promise, and get to work.

* * *

"It is time, sire."

Serek jumped a little as the two dark forms entered the throne room. They were expected, but even so, Sharilar had a way of always sneaking up on people. Sometimes he wondered if she actually employed her magics for such trivialities. Surely not? Zeliax trailed next to her like a shadow, and to the extent it was possible to read his body language he seemed a bit disgruntled.

If his father was at all startled by their arrival, he didn't show it. "Excellent. The robeast is prepared?"

"Yes. The Circle has empowered a weapon to bring glory to your name." She shot the cloaked man a look of contempt as he stepped away, returning to his accustomed position by the prince's side. "As per your orders, we consulted with the heretic to guide its capabilities." The way she spat _heretic_ made it clear how she felt about that consultation. The way Zeliax snorted in response made it clear the feeling was mutual.

Kargil paid no mind to any of that; he didn't care how much his advisors bickered as long as they gave him what he wanted. "Very well." He stood, towering over the slim young Witch-Primus, who took a step back that might have been more out of respect than intimidation. Or not. "I wish to see this beast before you launch it."

"Of course, sire. It awaits your inspection." With a deep bow, she turned and led the emperor out.

Much of the throne room's tension seemed to depart with him. Telok and Kaela left quickly, but Zeliax remained motionless, seeming to have withdrawn into his own thoughts. That was odd. In the few days the prince had been acting as liaison with the collaborator, he'd always been sharply aware and observant. Now he seemed almost... uncomfortable?

"Are you alright, Lord Zeliax?"

"Am I...?" The collaborator cocked his head in surprise. "...Yes, fine. Have you ever seen a robeast created, Prince Serek?"

He made a face. Personally he didn't like the idea of robeasts at all; they were too representative of the Empire's previous madness. Why weapons had to be such monstrosities he did not understand. But there was no need to voice any of that. "No."

Nod. "It is unpleasant."

That didn't surprise him, but in fairness it could be said about many things. "Unfortunately, that _is_ the nature of war."

"Of course it is." Now he definitely seemed uncomfortable. "...I'm sure the emperor will want to yell at me soon, when the fact that his Witch-Primus rejected nearly all of my advice ends in the creature's defeat. In the meantime I'm going to return to my quarters." In a whirl of his cloak he was gone.

... _Well then_. Serek blinked after him for a moment. He'd actually meant to ask Zeliax for assistance with a task of his own, but decided perhaps not now. Instead he made his own way out of the throne room and ran to catch up with Kaela.

She hadn't gotten far. "Overseer! Do you have a minute? I have a request."

Kaela turned, her greenish eyes glowing briefly. "I can always spare time for the Prince Imperial. What do you require?"

Hesitating, he once again wondered if this was a good idea after all, but his curiosity outweighed it as it had each time before. "I'd like to borrow one of your agents and go down to the surface. Just as an... observation mission."

"Observation, my lord?"

He nodded. "I accompanied the scouting forces on the _Summoner_ , but it's hard to really grasp anything when you're in a warship that's being shot at. I'd like to actually _see_ what this fabled paradise is like."

Kaela raised an eyebrow. "It would be safer to wait until the conquest of the planet is finished, you know."

"Safety." He waved that off. "How unsafe could it be to sneak one shuttle to the surface? Voltron will be busy with the robeast, and I have confidence in the abilities of your agents..." Shooting her a sidelong glance he tried to gauge her expression, but the Eye of Avernoth was as inscrutable as ever. "And I'd like to see it before my father destroys everything worth seeing."

"Ah. That does increase the urgency." Shrug. "Very well, I'll go with you."

Blink. "Overseer, I didn't mean to imply—"

"I know you didn't, but if I send someone else, the risk of your father hearing about it becomes greater than zero. Somehow I think you'd rather avoid that."

...Perhaps she had a point there. Not that his father should have any good _reason_ to object, but life would be easier if he didn't have to explain himself. "In that case, let's be off."

* * *

The two days since the Drule carrier's attack had been a whirlwind of drills, engineering classes, and getting very, very lost. Quite logically, Lance had ordered the new Force moved into rooms in the Castle of Lions itself. What was much less logical was, well... the layout of the Castle of Lions. Vince could commit a whole technical manual to memory in one reading, but his sense of direction was a little less impressive.

He'd been the last to make it into what their commander referred to as the 'morning briefing', though the cadets had concluded it was basically just an ordinary class. That was fine with him; these classes were more interesting than the Alliance curriculum had ever been.

Today they were discussing history.

"Five worlds were involved in the construction of Voltron. Three of them have been destroyed for it." Lance activated the holotank, bringing up five planets whirling in holographic space. Earth and Arus were obvious enough, but Vince didn't recognize the others—and he was something of an obscure planet nut. Their commander pointed to the first, a huge planet that glowed with swirls of silvery energy. "Luxitar. The planet responsible for providing Voltron's energy. When the Drules traced it back to them, the Luxites chose to destroy their own world rather than let that power fall into the hands of the enemy. The shell of the planet was locked away in a pocket dimension, and the last known map to it is gone. Nobody has a clue what happened to the Luxites themselves."

Vince hesitated, but said nothing, his mind going back to his first encounter with Red Lion. Sharing the lion's blood. The image of Luxitar sent a twinge through him, and he half expected that silver energy to reach out... was it really possible? Red had admonished him for the question, but hearing this brought it back as strong as ever.

 _Maybe_ someone _has a clue..._

The next planet was small and dark, wreathed in a thick band of rings. "Balto. Provided the original programming for Voltron. They were fine until Maahox decided to try to mine their brains for knowledge of Voltron's weaknesses—millennia after the forging, but it's not like the Drules have ever been big on common sense We were able to drive Maahox away, but he'd reduced the entire Baltan population to haggarium-infused zombies. Incurable. The planet had to be quarantined and sterilized."

Another twinge, a shudder of discomfort. And a stinging guilt, which made no sense at all—it wasn't like _he'd_ been there. But as Vince watched, Lance swallowed hard and hesitated for a moment. That was when he realized the guilt was not his own; it was pouring into him through his link to Red Lion.

The final planet was a desert world, pale and scorched. "Ariel. Provided all of Voltron's raw material, plus the workshops and blacksmiths for the actual construction. Sky Marshal Wade found the connection and invaded, and that drew Doom's attention. They were able to release an ancient, destructive spirit trapped in one of Ariel's temples... the Beast King, sort of an anti-Voltron." A scowl. "If the Lion Riders had just _warned us_ it was there, maybe we could've made it in time, but no, that would've been too simple and not-cryptic... they never had a chance. He killed them all and left their world uninhabitable."

There it was, that guilt again. Vince closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to hear this, didn't want to have to _think_ about it. But he understood why Lance was telling them, why they needed to know these painful truths. The weight of a thousand worlds rested on their shoulders.

He wondered if he really had the strength for this.

Imam was next to him, looking grim as ever. He'd had astrophysics and sparring classes with the Ghostwalker—had normal classes only been a week ago? Felt like forever—and had always liked him, though he'd also found him a bit creepy. Neither of those impressions had changed one bit since they'd become part of this mission.

"Much has been sacrificed for the Defender to endure. We must ensure their sacrifice was not in vain, despite all the Empire may unleash upon us..." He hesitated a moment. "Though they are acting very strange thus far."

Vince nodded; that was still bothering him too. "What's taking them so long? I kinda doubt they got here, saw the lions, and decided to just pack up and go home."

"Hey, maybe they're smarter than we think," Larmina snorted.

"...Yeah, not so much." Lance shook his head. "I've been trying to make sense of that for the last two days. That carrier may or may not have even been able to take out the garrison alone, if they'd stuck around. But Voltron?"

Daniel shrugged. "So they didn't know we'd be here."

"You think they brought their whole warfleet to hit some generic training facility that just happens to be the one on Arus? No. They were expecting Voltron, hell, they came here for Voltron. They had to have. But the lions as they remember them would've brought that thing down without breaking a sweat." Frown. "Even if they didn't have any robeasts ready, throwing one ship at us to tear up in the meantime is just silly..." Before he could go any further with that, alarms started going off. "...Well. Ask and ye shall receive."

"Nice of them." Jumping out of his seat, Daniel swept his gaze over the others in a gesture very much reminiscent of Lance. "Okay everyone! To the lions!"

Everyone just stared at him.

"...Uh, please?"

Their real commander smirked. "You heard him, kiddos. Get moving."

* * *

The robeast looked something like a porcupine, if porcupines had fangs and armor and very bad attitudes. And missiles. Why would you give a porcupine robeast missiles? Wasn't the whole point that it could shoot spines at you anyway?

 _Isn't that the_ point _. Heh._

Daniel took to the air, making for Altairus City. They'd dropped the robeast near the capital, because that was what evil armies bent on galactic conquest did, he supposed. Didn't make any sense to him. What good was taking over a planet if you just wrecked the whole place? But maybe that was why he wasn't, well, leading an evil army bent on galactic conquest.

He was leading something _way_ cooler. "You guys ready to ruin Porky's day?"

"Porky?" Imam repeated, bemused. "Is that not a reference to a pig? I am not certain what this monster is meant to be, but it is certainly not very pig-like."

Groan. "It's a porcupine. I could've called it Cupine, but what the hell is a 'cupine'? Trust me, dude, just run with it."

A few snickers came over the comms from the others as the Ghostwalker took a moment to sort that out. "...Of course, sir."

Sir? He could get used to that. "So like I was saying! I see a robeast, and we're the _Voltron_ Force..." Grin. "Only one thing to do now, right?"

Larmina cut in this time. The others were really killing his buzz here. "Um, don't you think that's something we should actually practice first?"

True enough, they hadn't yet had a chance to test the formation out. They'd just finished getting the lions airworthy again, considering they'd had to learn every step of the maintenance along the way; oh the Alliance had left tech crews, but Lance said the lions didn't care much for strangers poking at them. Probably reasonable. But _still_...

"Do we even know if the lions are capable of forming Voltron now?" Vince agreed. "I mean with them weakened, what if the formation takes more power than we have to give?"

"Uh, _guys_." Daniel scowled at the comm panel. "Theoreticals are nice and all, but you do realize there's a robeast standing _right there_ that we're supposed to be killing before it gets to the city? Where are we going to sneak in a training session, exactly?"

"He's right," Lance broke in, "much as I suspect I'll regret ever admitting that." Always with the votes of confidence, wasn't he? "Practice time is over, forming-giant-robot time is now. If it makes you feel any better, my team didn't get a chance to practice either..." An odd sound that might have been a laugh. "...oh, and _we_ had demigod lions in our heads telling us if we screwed it up we wouldn't be judged worthy of flying."

"...Oh." Vince's voice dripped feigned nonchalance. "Okay, so long as there's no pressure on us."

"There's nothing to fear, Vince. We are ready. And I believe we've drawn the attention of the enemy." Bruno pushed Green Lion forward, looking around at the others. Sure enough, Porky had halted in its advance on the city, and was now charging across the plain at the lions. "Daniel. Lead us. We will follow."

 _Third time's the charm. Let's do this._

Daniel pushed Black Lion forward at top speed, his eyes sparking as the others fell into formation beside him. This was the moment, _his_ moment. The one he'd been dreaming about while all his classmates couldn't see past the next sim session. The one he'd known could never happen, yet couldn't just give up on...

It was impossible to keep the excitement from his voice. "Activate interlocks!" A wave of energy washed through the cockpit as he pulled the lever back, several of the monitors reconfiguring. "Dynoth—"

The porcupine-beast dropped to all fours, firing a volley of missiles at the lions as they leaped into the air. Missiles that punched right through the energy field surrounding them and knocked them out of formation and out of the sky.

 _Oh you've got to be kidding!_

* * *

"...Oh you've got to be kidding."

Vince fought to get Red Lion upright in midair and failed, crashing down hard on its back instead. _Ow_. "Not kidding, boss," he muttered in response to Lance's snarl, righting the lion just in time to see Porky or Cupine or whoever it was barreling at them like a bowling ball.

Yellow Lion sprang up with a roar, meeting the robeast's charge head-on with a deafening clang. Imam got the worst of the deal by far, tumbling back over the ground until his lion crashed into an empty hangar, though at least he'd stopped the robeast's momentum. "Oh. Well this _is_ going to be a bit more challenging."

"A bit," Larmina snorted. "Okay, so about that whole 'oh of course we don't need practice' thing... what now, genius?"

"Didn't say we don't need it, said we aren't gonna get it. Regroup and let's do this again." Black Lion reared up and fired a shock blast at the robeast, then launched again; Vince took a couple shots of his own before following. "Activate inter—"

Something jolted through Red Lion, and Vince gave a short gasp. "Red? You okay?" The answer came as a stabbing pain in his own heart. Just for a moment. The next he was plummeting again, the others beside him.

"What the hell is going on?" Larmina growled. "It didn't even hit us! We didn't even have time to do anything wrong!"

"You had a major internal energy surge when you activated your interlocks," Lance reported. "All five of you."

"Voltron's energy?" Bruno asked. "Do we not have enough power after all? We can reroute some. I think."

"No, it isn't that. I'm detecting some sort of anomaly but can't get a good fix on it from here. Time to earn your stripes, kiddos."

"Um, lions," Daniel protested. "Not tigers."

Scowl. "Less semantics, more running diagnostics without dying."

Oh. He had an excellent point there actually—almost as soon as he said it the robeast reasserted its presence, turning on the downed lions and launching a massive spread of quills. Vince yanked back on the control rods as hard as he could, perhaps a little too much so, but it got his lion out of the line of fire. Way out. He shot into the air at full speed, whirling back around to launch everything he had at the monster.

Daniel and Bruno had avoided most of the quills as well. Both recovered enough to join his attack, combining their elemental weapons into a cyclone that crackled with lightning. "Got him!" Daniel crowed as the strikes impacted, cloaking the monster in a huge cloud of ash and dust.

"It may be too soon to declare victory, my friend." Imam had jumped in front of Larmina, though she'd made a decent show of dodging the quills herself. Unfortunately the net result of that was that she'd taken herself out from behind Yellow Lion's heavy armor, and now Blue had several sharp spikes sticking out of its hindquarters. Yellow had actually come out of it even worse, with enough quills stuck in its neck to practically make up the lion's mane. "This creature is quite strong."

As Imam darted away from the billowing smoke, Larmina twisted Blue's head around to pull the spines out of her backside, then followed. "Well then, better figure out why the activate interlocks thing isn't working, hadn't we?"

For a moment, everyone was quiet. Then Vince realized who they were waiting for. "...You're all looking at me, aren't you?"

"Pretty much," Daniel agreed. "Think you can do it, Magic Man?"

Magic Man. No pressure. "I can try, but uh... I keep telling you guys I have no idea how I do these things!"

"No better time to learn," Bruno declared. "Have faith. Do not doubt. You were chosen for this for a reason!"

 _Glad someone thinks so_. Vince took a deep breath. "Okay. Cover me then, I'm gonna need a little time..."

"You will have all you need, my friend." Imam turned just as Porky came roaring out of the smoke. "Find the answers." With that the rest of the lions charged in.

It was incredibly difficult to focus when he was watching the others go at it with a monster straight out of a disaster holo. Even more difficult knowing he was also on that monster's target list, once it finished carving them up because the were one lion short. _No. Focus. The best thing you can do for them right now is find out why you can't form Voltron!_ Switching his primary display to a side monitor, he brought up diagnostics on his main screen and got to work.

There was something there, alright. The anomaly Lance had reported showed up bright as day on his scans, though he couldn't make any sense of what it _was_. Just that it was there, a glowing mass attached to Red Lion's Nexus piece. "You know, Big Red, this would be a whole lot easier if you could still just talk..." For a moment he stopped to exhale in frustration, closing his eyes.

Instead of darkness, a vivid image formed in his mind.

"Hey! What the...?" He was flying, rushing at impossible speeds on a trail of smoke. A missile, he realized. He was following a missile... straining to grasp the vision he startled to see he was closing in on the lions, rising up into the sky.

 _How_...

The missile slammed into Red Lion's chest, knocking it out of the air, just like he remembered. But his vision didn't end with the missile's detonation. It continued, a flare of light passing through the lion's armor and impacting the Nexus, clinging there against the crystalline structure.

Of course. The anomaly had come from the monster, to prevent them from exactly what they were trying to do. But how to fix it?

When Vince opened his eyes, the hand he'd left resting on the console had become wrapped in silvery light, tendrils from each of his fingers sinking into the panel. "Whoa..."

He could still see it in the back of his mind. The Nexus piece, the anomaly... and five silvery whips snaking towards it. Eyes widening, he attempted to focus on the whips. Could he influence them? Guide them? As he wondered, he could feel them responding, wrapping around the Nexus and plunging into the anomaly's heart.

An overwhelming sense of _presence_ took hold in his head.

 _Disrupt. Deny. Must not connect. Disrupt. Deny. Must not connect._ It was not entirely unlike when he'd heard Red's voice, except this voice felt somehow... questioning? It wasn't quite the word, but he had the distinct feeling it was asking his approval. _Disrupt. Deny. Must not connect._

Vince took a shaky breath. May as well run with it. _No. No, that's not right._

 _No? Disrupt. Deny. Must not connect._

 _No. Stop doing that. Your job is done here, it's okay. You can stop._

 _Stop. Do not disrupt. Do not deny. Allow connect._

He blinked, briefly too surprised to even respond. ... _Yes! Yeah, that._

 _Yes._ And with that the light of the anomaly flickered out, a tiny chip falling away from the Nexus and disintegrating.

The image in the back of Vince's mind vanished, the pale tendrils of energy retreating back into his hand. "Dude..." He shook his head, trying to clear it. Maybe make the slightest bit of sense of what had just happened. "...I think I just talked to a computer with my _brain_."

"Lovely! Did you just have a nice chat with it or did it tell you anything useful?!"

Larmina's voice made him jump; he hadn't realized his comms were still open. Switching his monitors back to their standard configuration he saw Blue Lion trying to claw at the robeast's throat, with Yellow on its back in between the two rows of quills. Black and Green were flying in circles overhead, strafing as best they could without hitting their teammates as Porky fired wave after wave of spikes. None of it seemed to be all that effective.

"I got it!" he grinned. Then the grin faded almost immediately as he realized he had no idea how to fix the _others_. Then Red Lion's presence surged in his mind, guiding his eyes to his voltcom. "...Really?"

* * *

Daniel knew it wasn't particularly helping anything to keep shooting impatient looks at Red Lion, but he couldn't really help it, either. Some of Porky's spines were getting way too close for comfort. "Was that a good 'really' or a bad 'really', Magic Man?"

"Uh, to be determined. Fair warning guys, this is gonna be weird..." Almost as soon as Vince finished speaking, Daniel felt his voltcom flare to life. Two whips of silver-white energy extended from the lion face's eyes, plunging into and through his consoles.

"Okaaaay..." Weird. Yeah, it was that.

Porky wasn't just sitting back while the lions were distracted. With a roar it bucked Yellow Lion off its back, then raked its claws over Blue and threw it aside. As it set its sights on Black he did his best to evade with one hand, though a handful of spines shot through the lion's back paw.

Black roared in pain in his mind, then a dark fury replaced it. "Yeah," Daniel agreed, gritting his teeth. "My thoughts exactly. Let's make him pay."

Green Lion had swooped in to cover him, the telltale screech of its sonic beacon driving the monster back. Bruno took a few quills to the nose for his trouble. "We can't fly like this. Vince?"

"Almost got it..."

Daniel looked at the silver tendrils reaching out from his voltcom, then snapped a shot from his shock tail to keep Porky having second thoughts. "Get it a little faster, would you?"

"Almost got it..."

Imam charged forward again, headbutting the robeast and getting a good bite in before being swatted away. "I do not think he really hears us, sir. There is some ancient power at play here."

He'd kind of guessed that, though confirmation was always nice. "Great. What do we do in the—"

"—Got it!"

The silver tendrils withdrew, and he felt a wave of triumph from Black Lion.

"Way to go, Vince!"

"Nicely done."

"That was impressive."

"That was _weird_ _."_

Vince sounded more than a little stunned, and it was Larmina's comment he chose to answer. "Told you it was gonna be weird. Wasn't wrong."

Imam was the last to join the others in the air, after firing a smoke grenade at the robeast to keep it busy. "I think we have a moment. Sir, was there something you thought we should be doing in the meantime?"

Had Imam just made a joke? Daniel was pretty sure Imam had just made a joke. A grin spread over his face, turning more than a little savage as he reached for the initiation lever. "Yeah." He yanked the lever back with all his might. "Activate the damn interlocks!"

Nothing was going to go wrong this time. Nothing was going to stand in his way. _Their_ way.

"Dynotherms connected!" Another wave of energy flooded through the cockpit, this one warm and fierce. "Infracells up!" A secondary monitor popped up on his control column. "Megathrusters are go!"

As the robeast behind them clawed its way free of the smoke, the lions sprang into the sky.

"Let's go, Voltron Force!"

* * *

Far from the battle and the Castle of Lions, two Drules stood at the edge of a large forest, performing an observation mission. Or, to put a finer point on it, sightseeing.

Kaela watched the prince carefully. He was well known among the upper echelons to be nearly the polar opposite of his father, calm and measured in contrast to Kargil's volatile egomania. He would be a fine, wise ruler someday. There were those on the homeworlds who'd prefer he be a fine, wise ruler rather sooner than that... of course very few such people had been brought along on this invasion.

'Few' was, on the other hand, greater than zero.

She had to tread carefully. Serek fancied himself a knight; he prided himself on his honor and loyalty. But he wasn't blind. He commanded the infantry, and was every bit as loyal to his warriors as to his lord. If his father would throw away a warship so easily, what value could he possibly place upon mere foot soldiers?

"It's beautiful here," the prince whispered, interrupting her own contemplations. "More than any of the stories and records could ever describe."

Of course he'd hold _that_ romantic notion too, wouldn't he? Kaela supposed he wasn't wrong, though she personally cared little for the scenery. The dark clouds of the homeworlds were more to her liking. "It will be a fine prize."

"Yes..." He paused, placing his hand on a nearby tree, taking stock of the rough bark. "Our people could thrive here."

 _Closer, closer_... they were dancing around it. She knew it, did he? "Certainly they could, with such resources. It will be worth the cost, you think?"

There it was; his eyes flickered slightly. "In the long run, perhaps it will. We'll hope so."

"Hope." Kaela raised her head, meeting the prince's gaze coolly. "My lord, forgive me, but my business does not deal in hope. We deal in facts. Facts such as your father's careless disposal of the _Mad Dog_. Facts such as his entrusting the acquisition of intelligence on Voltron to a blasphemous outsider. Facts such as your own concern he'd sooner burn this world down than take proper advantage of its bounty."

Immediately whatever flicker she'd seen turned into icy resolve. "All true enough, Overseer, but I don't care for where this is going."

"Going?" She shrugged. "My job is to observe, and report my findings to whoever I deem appropriate. Consider this a report."

"I see." His posture relaxed slightly, though his expression remained cold. "For a minute there it sounded like you might be suggesting... disloyalty."

"My loyalty lies in the same place as yours, my lord. With the Drule Empire."

Serek's eyes narrowed. He'd received the message loud and clear. "Good. Then let's continue our scouting mission, shall we?"

"Of course." She followed as he stepped into the forest, his cold demeanor fading as swiftly as it had come on. Such an alien landscape could be distracting, of course—but the prince was no fool. The doubts were raised, the seeds planted. With care, those seeds might blossom into a metaphorical forest far greater than this one. One that would save the Empire.

* * *

Voltron stepped from the pulsing energy, and Lance nearly choked on the flood of emotion. _They did it. They really did it..._ It was pride shining in his eyes as he stared at the monitors, though more than a few tears might have made it through as well. It had been so long...

Memories of his own team's first formation came flooding back. The shock of their success, the approval of the lions, the bonds sinking into their souls as the legendary knight strode forth. And the knowledge somewhere deep within them, not yet able to be voiced, that everything had changed... more than they ever could've dreamed of had changed.

No, the Alliance had _never_ understood.

"Keith, Sven, Pidge, Hunk, Allura..." He swallowed hard. "...I hope you're watching." _I hope you're smiling as wide as I want to be._

Of course, nostalgia aside, the kids hadn't actually won anything yet. The robeast was bristling but looked a little confused. Had it not been expecting Voltron to actually form? The anomalies that had been attached to the Nexus were worrying, very much so. But there was nothing they could do about that right now. Right now they had to...

"Form Blazing Sword!"

...Not that. "Uh, Daniel, it's a little bit early for the sword, trust me on this."

Voltron paused for a moment. "Take it easy, Lance!" Daniel sounded like he was living all his wildest dreams, which he pretty much _was_ , so there was that. "We've got Porky right where we want him."

 _Okay then, kid's gonna learn the hard way_. He knew he could only do so much to guide them from here; like his own team they would have to be allowed to learn, to make a few mistakes. Hopefully it wouldn't get them all killed.

* * *

Larmina was _really_ not sure how she felt about this.

They were running. That was a thing that was happening, they were running, and she was coordinating with the others to keep the legs moving one after the other, and she should probably be proud of herself for accomplishing that much all things considered. The problem was that it was _easy_. Too easy. Not the movement, but the coordination. It was like she somehow knew exactly what the others were going to do before they actually did it, and that whole concept pretty thoroughly freaked her out.

 _Why, though?_

It was something very different than Blue Lion's presence in her mind. They weren't really there, and they certainly weren't crowding her. She didn't really have a sense of _them_ at all. More like she just instinctively could feel what the rest of Voltron was doing and how she fit into it, like some bizarre jigsaw puzzle that happened to be a giant robot made out of lions.

That was possibly not such a bad metaphor. It also wasn't entirely unpleasant. And finally, it was clearly useful, considering she could sit here wondering about it and be helping Voltron charge forward at the same time.

Raising the Blazing Sword overhead they leaped into the air, coming down on the robeast, which stared up at them with a defiant hiss...

...And whirled around to slam its spiked tail into Voltron's forearms, leaving dozens of quills embedded in Red and Green Lions and sending the sword flying halfway across the complex.

"Well, _that_ didn't go as planned."

"No kidding."

Innocent whistling came over the comms alongside the startled comments from Vince and Bruno; she didn't even need to look at the panel to know it was Lance saying he'd told them so.

"Okay then." Daniel had the grace to sound a little flustered as Voltron righted itself and attempted to fire off some secondary weapons; a slight breeze came out of Green's jaws, and a puff of smoke erupted from Red's. Porky, looking unimpressed, responded with a spread of quills that scattered over Voltron's chest. "Uh..."

"Blazing Sword 101, kids: it drains all of Voltron's elemental energy. You may want to go ahead and get it back now."

"No problem!" Voltron turned around, because apparently Daniel had no tactical sense whatsoever, and the robeast immediately tackled them from behind and took them right back to the ground.

Larmina checked her monitors. The sword had ended up stuck in the middle of the sparring grounds, which gave her a thought... _maybe we don't need it_. Was it possible? If she was part of this crazy puzzle called Voltron, could she be the keystone, even briefly? Lance had told them more than once over the last couple of days that the lions could take advantage of their pilots' talents, under the right circumstances. _No time like the present._ Giving her controls an experimental tug she tried to guide them into flipping around, but all it accomplished was Blue kicking out ineffectually. _Ugh_. She made a face, muttering to the cockpit. "Blue, if you're there reading my thoughts, which I _know_ you are, a little advice would be helpful..."

Something flickered in the back of her mind, and Blue's presence surged.

"Whoa! Where did that...?" Daniel's voice sounded a little distant. "...Uh, guys, I think Black has an idea? Someone has an idea. Brace yourselves!" And with that he pulled them into exactly the maneuver Larmina had been thinking of, flipping onto their back and kicking Porky over Voltron's head.

 _Oh, cool_...

The robeast recovered quickly, but so did Voltron. Larmina's whole world suddenly became very small. But this wasn't the hated confinement of the cockpit. This was the pure focus of combat, no distractions, just them and the bad guy. Nothing else mattered. She knew what they had to do, she _knew_. And as soon as she thought it they were moving.

"I have _no_ idea where this is coming from," Daniel commented almost conversationally as they lunged.

Larmina smirked. "You can thank me later." With that Voltron slammed its left fist into the robeast's face, and it staggered back with a shriek.

" _Dude_." Vince sounded impressed. "You still got all your teeth over there, Bruno?"

"Yes. I think so. ...Somehow." The Ailurian gave a low growl they'd all come to recognize as a chuckle. "Can we do that again?"

"Oh totally," Larmina grinned, and Voltron pushed forward.

* * *

Porky seemed ready for them this time, though it didn't have space or time to shoot any more quills at them. Instead it lashed out with its claws. They stepped back just far enough for the strike to pierce empty air, then returned the attack, Red's fangs ripping into the monster's chest and leaving a pair of nasty scars.

Daniel grinned, though it was still a weird sensation. The way his reflexes were working right now didn't seem to be quite his own. He felt Black's presence powerfully in his mind, though apparently it was Larmina really guiding the fight?

 _Sure, why not? A good commander uses everyone's strengths, right? Right!_

He was pretty certain he felt a sense of approval from Black, right before Voltron grabbed both of Porky's wrists and kicked it hard in the stomach.

"We are nearly to the sword," Imam noted. "Or are we having too much fun like this?"

"Punching is fun," Daniel acknowledged, landing an uppercut on the robeast for good measure. "Swords are even more fun." One more kick sent it flying, and they darted the last few hundred feet to the sparring grounds, grabbing the Blazing Sword by the hilt and whirling to face the battered monster. "Okay, let's try this again."

Black's grip on his mind faded somewhat, his own senses reasserting themselves; maybe Larmina wasn't so good with swords. That was fine. Daniel had played a _lot_ of Lion Force games in his day.

 _I've got THIS._

Taking a moment to gauge the robeast's moves, this time he went for a feint first. Porky fired a spray of spines that went wide, and Voltron jumped up again, bringing the sword down squarely on its head... only to have it glance off the quills in a shower of sparks.

"Oh, come _on!"_

"We have insufficient power," Imam reported. "The monster's armor is solid, and Voltron can only muster so much strength."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "More power? Fine. We'll give it more power."

He wasn't sure where it came from—whether it was his own idea, or Black's, or just the lingering confidence from Larmina that made him feel like he _knew_ how to fight like this. In the end it probably didn't matter. Wherever it came from he spun them around, lowering the sword and leveling it at Voltron's side. And as Porky came lunging for them, Voltron stabbed beneath its outstretched claws with all its might.

For a moment Daniel found himself face to face with the robeast's crimson eyes. They were bulging in shock as the Blazing Sword pierced its stomach, flames licking out around the blade like blood. He smirked, and even gave the monster a little wave. Then Voltron stepped back, yanking the blade back out, and a massive wave of fire erupted to consume the monster completely.

The explosion was followed by silence. Then all the words came at once.

"Did we just...?"

"I believe we did."

"We totally did."

"That wasn't so bad."

A huge smile split Daniel's face. "That was _awesome!"_

* * *

The Academy had changed.

Gone were worries about study and training, no matter how hard the professors struggled for attention. Gone were tales of new projects, rumors of advanced technology the Panthera Squadron was being groomed to command. Gone was the wild speculation on why the entire Castle of Lions cadre had been relocated to the Garrison proper.

There were no more rumors. The truth was out.

Voltron had returned.

The reaction was like a backdraft, a few underground whispers erupting into a roar of truth. Nobody had anticipated it. Least of all Sky Marshal Amelia Kasun, standing on the Garrison HQ's highest observation deck and watching the spontaneous parties that had broken out all over the complex.

 _Perhaps the lions weren't so forgotten after all. Perhaps we didn't know the full value of that old fairy tale_.

Well, now they knew.

She turned to Parker, standing beside her. "Get in touch with the Fifteenth Strike Battalion, tell them to come back." The Arusian garrison had started their journey back that morning, but the tactical situation had changed since then, hadn't it? "They'd just be getting in the way there."

So it had always been. Voltron was something far greater than whatever aid the Alliance could try to offer... McClain had made his opinion of their efforts clear enough, anyway. So be it. As he wanted, as it had to be, it was all up to him and his cadets now.


	8. Parts of the Whole

Reawakening  
Chapter 7: Parts of the Whole

* * *

Nothing about the Drule attacks made _sense_.

Lance was pacing in Control, watching Voltron and another robeast dance. This one appeared to have been created from a rabbit, which was just weird. _Evil bunnies? Is this what the Drules have stooped to?_ The Rabbeast, as Daniel had immediately dubbed it, didn't have a whole lot interesting going for it other than the fact that it could bite through armor—which in fairness had been bad enough. The kids were going to have some nice holes to patch up later.

The interesting thing, and the thing that worried him, was that it had directly attacked Black Lion's den. That hadn't gone terribly well for it; apparently the same power that protected the lions in their dens protected the dens themselves. Good to know. But how the hell had it known to attack there in the first place? The locations of the dens were not common knowledge.

It wasn't just this Rabbeast, either. The last one had been a damn _frog_ , complete with a nasty frog-tongue as its main weapon. The cubs had found that all very amusing. It had become much less amusing the first time it hit them, slathering the lions with an acid that melted through their armor like tissue paper. Voltron's plating had always repelled most acids as easily as water; was it the new weakness or something more?

And all of that had come only after the porcupine, which still might be the most worrisome. Its attacks had targeted the Nexus, disrupted the formation. Weapons could be made extra powerful, attacking a den that was in fairness right in front of the castle could be dumb luck. But how could they know to do _that?_

It felt like fighting Maahox all over again, if not worse. At least he'd only known more about Voltron's _history_ than the Force had.

For all the knowledge the Drules seemed to have, the strangest thing was that they were still losing. It wasn't because the kids were good—though they weren't bad. He stopped pacing to watch the maneuver that was becoming familiar. Not the graceful slash with the Blazing Sword that had been so iconic when his own team flew, but a brutal stab to generate every possible bit of force despite the machine's weakened state. It got the job done. Oh, it sure as hell did that.

The Rabbeast exploded with a shriek.

 _It doesn't make any sense... what did they do, forget how to make robeasts?_

He probably shouldn't be questioning so much as smiling, accepting it, and taking full advantage. But the problem was that they still had no idea what had happened to Voltron's power, and so far they seemed to be winning because the enemy was bad at their job. Better than losing, but not something they could count on.

How long was their luck going to hold out?

* * *

Defeat was already getting old. Kargil knew the three robeasts he'd lost were nothing; in the last war how many dozens had Zarkon and Lotor failed with? But he wasn't as weak and foolish as his predecessors. And he was supposed to have an advantage they hadn't...

Supposed to.

Now Sharilar stood before him, looking deeply displeased. Zeliax stood slightly behind her, as quietly insolent as ever. Serek had come along with the collaborator, which was just as well: it meant he was taking his job seriously.

The emperor glowered at the cloaked man, who stared back impassively. "So, Zeliax. I think it's time you had a performance evaluation. You came to us offering such grand expectations, and yet I find myself... underwhelmed by your results."

"My results?" Snort. "With all respect, I can only offer advice. The Witch-Primus seems to have a personal quota on how much of it she will take, and I can't force her otherwise." He stepped forward, turning to face Sharilar and no doubt glaring beneath the mask. "There is also one unexpected complication. Voltron is weak, but so are your monsters."

Serek shot him a look before Kargil or Sharilar could snarl at him. "I told you when you first asked about our forces—"

"—That you'd only just rediscovered the process, I know. But that's the problem. The robeasts which fought in the Doom Wars were the products of centuries of refinement. You seem to be starting back at the beginning. Of course, you will improve, and Voltron will remain weak. But expecting easy victory under the current circumstances is absurd, and will only waste your resources."

Sharilar hissed, refusing to address the man next to her at all. "We have consulted with the heretic as ordered, and taken what suggestions we found reasonable. Shall the Circle be subjugated to a human, sire? Shall we call this blasphemer our master, and follow his orders unquestioned? Besides, what use is his knowledge of Voltron's weakness if it cannot translate into the easy victories he now derides?"

"Only the difference between your robeasts having a chance and being annihilated without a thought. And what use is any information if you won't actually _use_ it, you hypocrite?"

"Enough!" Kargil snapped. They both had valid points, he supposed. "Zeliax, you'll do well to remember your _place_. Witch-Primus, I leave things to your discretion, and am certain I need not remind you of the price of failure." He sat back on his throne, placing a hand on the hilt of his blade. "Now since the two of you are here, maybe you'd like to discuss what _can_ be done to destroy these inconvenient lions, rather than why you haven't done it yet."

Despite the animosity they'd shared just moments ago, the advisor and the witch both stepped back and exchanged uncomfortable looks. The emperor scowled. _Maybe they are both weaklings. A bit more time to prove themselves..._

It was Sharilar who finally fielded the question. "Voltron struggles to fight off a single foe, regardless of how the heretic insults our work. Perhaps we need to simply outnumber it."

He arched an eyebrow. "Multiple robeasts? You've maintained you don't have the resources for that." She'd been very annoying about insisting it, too. Logistics really were _such_ an irritation.

"Proper robeasts? No. But give me a company of volunteers, and I will build for you an army of giants."

Oh, he liked the sound of that—and the image even more so. Of course his troops should tower above the landscape, with the humans mere insects at their feet. It was the right of the Empire! The Alliance vermin would be shown their place once and for all...

Of course, others liked the idea less.

Zeliax studied her for a moment, then shook his head. "You're only going to enlarge them? No other enhancement? You realize Voltron will cut through them like grass?"

Shrug. "Only a company. One hundred soldiers out of tens of thousands. Those who die will gladly spend themselves for the greater glory; I expect we'll have more volunteers than I will have the resources to empower."

"Undoubtedly." The collaborator crossed his arms. "But they won't accomplish anything either—except most likely demoralizing the civilians for the five minutes until the whole company is wiped out."

Her eyes flared. "Do you question the powers of my acolytes, heretic?"

"Of course not, Witch-Primus. I'm sure you can build this army, but one hundred unaugmented soldiers against Voltron? Simple physics dictates the outcome." He gestured to Serek. "Perhaps the prince would allow you to try punching his armor for a demonstration."

"...If you must?" Serek looked as surprised by the suggestion as anyone.

Sharilar scowled and waved it off. "No, no... the point is well-taken. Very well. Fifty soldiers, then; the rest of the Circle's energy will be used to create weapons suitable to their mission."

From the way he shifted it looked like Zeliax wanted to protest more, but Serek raised a hand to silence him. He didn't look entirely thrilled himself. "If you believe this is the wisest use of resources, I'll go and get you your volunteers. No doubt there will be plenty of interest." His eyes glowed coldly. "But Witch-Primus, you'll do well to keep in mind that these are _my_ warriors you're working with, not your mindless robots. Treat them as such. Our people have greater dignity than merely being your tools."

Sharilar eyed him for a minute, then shrugged. "Of course, Prince Serek. I wouldn't dream of denying them their dignity. They will be heroes of the Empire."

"See to it you remember that."

As he watched his son leave the throne room, Kargil wondered—not for the first time—where he'd gone wrong in raising the boy. Serek was a fine, loyal soldier. But his stubborn insistence on believing his own moral preaching was such a nuisance. Oh, he'd been taught the ideals of honor and duty, but those were only supposed to keep him loyal, not so _annoying_. The Emperor was the heart and soul of the Empire, and all else existed to serve him. That was honor. It wasn't such a difficult concept.

Well, he would learn it, or not... it was of little consequence. Right now it was only Kargil's will that mattered. And he intended to reign for a long, long time.

* * *

As far as Larmina was concerned, proof of the team's progress was less about beating up on robeasts, more about the fact that Lance had finally given them some actual free time. Not a whole lot, admittedly, and she was pretty sure it was mostly because he was busy trying to figure out what training from hell to inflict on them next. Still. Free time was free time!

She was taking advantage of it by setting up camp in the gym and beating the holographic training dummy to a holographic pulp.

The staff Blue Lion had given her was nice. Simple. No frills, all function. There was some weight to it despite its being a hard-light projection, but when she needed to make quick moves it almost seemed to become lighter in her hands. It wasn't just a glowing stick, it was almost like an extension of her body—by far the nicest weapon she'd ever used. Though why exactly they had these weapons at all she wasn't quite clear on. What were they going to be fighting on foot?

Maybe she would ask Lance about that later. For now she was having too much fun.

"Nice... stick?"

She startled at the voice behind her and whipped around, spinning the staff in her hands and slamming it right across Daniel's chest. Not _too_ hard, though he'd had the good sense and reflexes to step back. Just enough to make a point.

"I like my stick."

"Uh huh." He blinked and rubbed his shoulder, where he'd taken the brunt of the blow. "You know we have time off now, right? What're you doing here doing work?"

Snort. "This isn't work. Also, you're here."

"I was just passing by." Frown. "And uh, I think Black wanted me to drop in."

"Yeah?" She switched the sim off and grinned wickedly. "Does he think you need training? I can help."

"Whoa, hey..." He took a step back. "I think he likes me alive!"

"Can't imagine why." Smirk. "But seriously, let's see what you've got, huh?" For whatever reason, the thought hadn't occurred to her until right then that the others had probably been given weapons too. What would this goofball even try to fight with?

He scowled and flicked his wrists, electric-blue talons springing to life on his hands. "Way cooler than some goofy stick."

 _Huh_. The claws looked unwieldy. "I still like my stick." Arching an eyebrow she dropped into a defensive crouch, holding the staff out in front of her. "Want to settle this?"

Gulp. "Um that's okay actually, I was just—"

"—Oh don't be like that! You're the mighty commander of Voltron and stuff, let's see it!" With a huge grin she lunged.

"HEY!"

Despite his indignation he actually managed to get his hands up, catching the incoming staff. It didn't do him a huge amount of good though. Not only did he block the blow, he got the staff stuck between his claws, and his attempt to pull back nearly ended with him hitting himself in the face with her weapon. Yeah, _that_ was impressive. Larmina yanked back, sliding the staff out from where it had been caught and poking him hard in the stomach with one end. "You're dead now. Just saying."

Daniel made a face. "You fight dirty."

"Yeah well, so do the bad guys." She banished the staff and crossed her arms. "Don't talk to me about fighting dirty, anyway. If Voltron's so weak we have to take whatever advantages we can get, don't we, Mr. Stab-the-robeast-in-the-guts?"

"Hey," he scowled. "That was just being practical."

"I know." How many times had she made exactly that same argument after beating up some royal brat who expected an easy fight? "Trust me, Daniel, I've heard it all. I've _said_ it all. I was the only noble in the whole Idrissa District who didn't treat required martial training like an afternoon tea party. All they ever wanted to do was whine about whether a fight was fair or not. You want me to take you seriously, don't be like them. Okay?"

To her surprise he seemed to take that under serious consideration. "Sure. So anything goes, then?"

"Pretty much."

"Works for me." And with that he lashed out with his talons, fast enough that Larmina just barely had time to dodge.

 _Well then!_ His technique wasn't much to speak of, lucky for her. But if he really wanted to learn, who was she to say no? Calling her staff again she returned his strike, laughing as they fell into a rhythm. Maybe their so-called leader wasn't so hopeless after all.

 _Definitely not work._

* * *

The alarms screeching was becoming a regular occurrence. Bruno had finally reached the point where he wasn't baring his claws every time, which was helpful, because the others seemed to find that a little disconcerting. But what had prompted the alarms today was definitely not the sort of attack they were getting used to.

"They've dropped on the capital," Lance reported as the team raced into Control.

"They are attacking the city itself?" Imam asked, eyes flickering. It was a bit odd; since the porcupine beast the Drules hadn't even made any pretense about having other targets. The more recent robeasts had gone straight for the castle. Then again, it was probably too early to be drawing any conclusions about patterns, wasn't it?

"Seems so. I'm trying to get a picture but the closest sensor post is down..." He paused as an image came up on the screen. "...What the _hells_."

The whole room went dead silent. Nobody could phrase it better. What they were seeing wasn't a robeast; it was a Drule infantry column, except the scale was all wrong. They were _huge_ , marching through the city like it was a toy model, leaving a trail of perfect devastation behind them.

 _What sort of atrocity is this?_ Bruno wasn't sure if this was less of an abomination than the robeasts, or more of one.

"Um..." Vince lowered his wide-eyed stare as one of the lead soldiers kicked in a building. The streets in front of the army were crowded with fleeing civilians and vehicles, and Bruno looked away too. There was no need to watch what was all too obvious. "So uh, how are we supposed to fight that, exactly?"

Lance was the only person still watching the monitor, his eyes becoming harder every moment. "By going out there and killing the hell out of them."

No doubt that wasn't the answer Vince has been looking for, or really even an answer to the question he'd actually asked. But there was no arguing with Lance when he got that tone. "Uh... got it, boss." Daniel looked at the monitor for another moment, then flinched and looked around at the others. "To the lions, guys."

 _Where a new desecration awaits._

Bruno jumped through the door to Green Lion's chute, catching the zip line and growling a bit as the wind rushed past. He was hating these Drules more and more, and he wasn't comfortable with hatred. Life was life, and sacred... but the enemy had abandoned that, hadn't they? They placed no value on it. Not even their own, it sometimes seemed. Did they give up their rights to the respect all life deserved if they rejected that respect so thoroughly?

These were questions better suited to the sages, not a young warrior charging into a battle that seemed so bleak. He closed his eyes as the shuttle sped down its track, trying to draw strength from the forest around and above him. This was more than mere disrespect for life. It was active contempt, a cruelty that could be explained no other way.

"Very well," he muttered grimly as he climbed into the great lion. Green's presence was burning in his mind, eager to lash out against the invaders, and he let her will guide him. What better sage to ask? "They want my hate? They'll have it." He yanked the control rods back, taking to the winds, his dark eyes narrowing in rage. "And they'll regret it dearly."

* * *

They were missing something, they had to be. Lance watched the lions launch, all too aware that if this was what it looked like he was sending them to die. What else could he do? Enough people were dying already. Their job was to fight, they had to fight...

 _Even Voltron doesn't always win._ He closed his eyes. Remembering it all too well, those who couldn't be saved. Even if the new Force somehow brought down this army, it was going to be too late for a pretty large chunk of Altairus City. The Drules had started the attack marching in formation, but as he watched they were beginning to spread out, going out of their way to do as much damage as possible.

They also appeared to be enjoying it. Of course they were. Bastards.

"Form up, guys." Daniel was getting a little bit better at the leadership thing, at least. Oh sure, it was no big struggle for him to tell everyone what to do, but at least what he told them was getting a bit less dumb. "May as well get the jump on these things as hard as we can, right? Activate interlocks!"

Watching the formation still hurt like hell, and Lance looked away, trying to concentrate on the issue at hand. Once the team was in range they could start running some scans. What he expected them to find, he wasn't sure. That was the whole point of scans though, wasn't it? There had to be _something_ there to find. It was beyond any damn belief that a Drule Empire which could barely field one competent robeast was now suddenly fielding fifty.

As it turned out, he got his answer pretty quickly.

"We can't go into the city after them," Vince cautioned as Voltron finished forming. "The people are all over the place."

"Good thing a few of the bad guys are on the edges then," Daniel muttered grimly. As he said it he turned to set their sights on the outskirts. A lone Drule soldier was methodically kicking his way through a residential district, which appeared deserted. Hopefully for the _right_ reasons. "Form Blazing Sword!" With that Voltron charged the soldier, drawing the blade back and thrusting with all its might.

Usually, regardless of the nature of the strike, the Blazing Sword would meet resistance. That resistance would keep Voltron upright after its killing blow, the pushback allowing the generally overextended giant robot to regain its balance. Lance had never before seen what happened here: the sword pierced all the way through the soldier easily, and Voltron actually fell over on top of him as he screamed and dropped to the ground.

"...Um..."

"What the hell was that?"

"I think I see it." Imam sounded like he really wanted to be relieved, but didn't quite dare, which... might be the wisest reaction right now, honestly. "These soldiers are not showing the sort of energy signatures the robeasts display. In fact they are not displaying enhanced energy signatures at all, except for their weapons. All other readings are within normal biological parameters."

...Of course. That would explain it, wouldn't it?

"So you're telling us these things are just big Drules?" Daniel asked, getting Voltron back on its feet and swinging the Blazing Sword. Two more giants that had been lunging for them were caught by the blade, one completely bisected, the other just as mortally wounded but still in one piece. "Oh, dude..."

"Their armor is conventional and clearly ineffective, but their weapons are powerful. We will still need to be careful."

"Pfft, we've got..." Daniel was cut off by another one coming up on their side, swinging the mace in its hands squarely into Voltron's side. The robot stumbled and pitched over with a huge dent in its chest armor. "Uhhh, maybe we haven't got this." Before they could regain control a second soldier charged up behind them, raising her sword and bringing it down directly on Voltron's head.

Daniel screamed and Voltron went still.

 _Oh_ , _shit_.

Lance slammed on the comms. "Daniel? Daniel, can you hear me?" Nothing. "Daniel!"

The Drule with the mace moved in again, and a few others were approaching. On the plus side, the more soldiers were focused on Voltron, the less there were tearing up the city. On the downside, the ones focused on Voltron were actually doing damage. The giant with the mace took a moment to leer at Yellow Lion before raising the weapon for a blow that would no doubt cave its cockpit in...

A spray of sand erupted from Yellow's jaws. At first the sand only blinded the soldier, causing him to stagger back and claw at his eyes. But Imam didn't let up on the attack. His lion's breath scoured the soldier mercilessly, ripping his flesh away like a sandblaster, which in fairness was _exactly_ what it was. Yellow only let up when the giant toppled over, an utterly macabre corpse: nothing was left of its head but a polished skull.

"If you mean to kill a Ghostwalker," Imam declared grimly, "do not waste time taunting."

 _Holy cats_...

The gruesome death of their companion seemed to give the others a momentary pause. Enough time for Voltron to recover, except it still wasn't moving. "Can't raise Daniel," Vince reported nervously. "We're sitting ducks like this."

There was no other choice. "Split up," Lance ordered. "You're going to have to protect Black as best you can, but the rest of you need to be able to move."

"Sir," Imam protested, "if they launch a determined attack on him we cannot—"

"—Then we'll just have to hope they're preoccupied with the four of you who can shoot back, won't we? _Do it_."

In a flare of light Voltron's limbs disconnected, the other four retaking their normal configuration as Black Lion remained sprawled in the dirt. "Okay, we're out." Blue Lion immediately charged at the soldier who'd cracked Voltron on the head. The Drule took a swing, but Larmina slashed in return and took her arm off at the wrist before sinking Blue's fangs into her throat. "And _she's_ out, and I've got Drule on my windshield again."

"You should invest in a cleaning system," Imam observed wryly.

"Got one. It's called the lake."

"This might actually be a problem, guys." Vince had Red Lion prowling around at Yellow's side, Imam doing his best to cover Black against the bulk of the army. "We can't kill these... things in the city, even if we could stay in the air."

"What? Why not?"

"Because they're not like robeasts." Red ducked away from one charging giant, firing a volley of missiles into its back. The soldier's body crashed to the ground, falling across a pair of houses. "See? Just like that, the bodies don't explode. Not only will they cause more damage going down, they'll stay there and rot. It'll be an ecological disaster."

Well that last part was an angle Lance hadn't considered. Wasn't wrong, either. He studied the tactical display for a few moments; at least it looked like all the Drules were closing in on the lions. Maybe the evacuation could become halfway competent without a bunch of giants actively bearing down on the civilians. As for the immediate issue… _damn_. He wasn't seeing any other options.

"Okay. They've already pretty much annihilated the sector you're in, so we'll use that. Keep the battle there. We'll quarantine that district afterwards and figure out how to deal with the bodies." Uncomfortable memories of another quarantine flashed through his mind, but he pushed them back. The sector did appear completely deserted by now; hopefully they'd evacuated rather than being killed, but either way there couldn't be anyone left alive. "Right now you just focus on bringing those bastards down."

He could tell from the hesitation they weren't convinced. Hell, he wasn't totally convinced himself. But a pair of soldiers rushing in and nearly bisecting Blue Lion seemed to make the decision simpler. "We're on it."

* * *

The battle was, to put it mildly, not set up to the Force's advantage. There were so _many_ of the enemy soldiers. Individually the lions should have had a mobility advantage, but they couldn't use it with Daniel down at the center of their formation. If anything was going right, it was that the giants had fully abandoned their attacks on the civilians.

Bruno still wasn't comfortable moving on the ground, and it nearly cost him Green's tail as a particularly bulky Drule struck at him. "This isn't going so well." A flick of his tail blade ripped the sword from the soldier's hand. Only a momentary respite. "Any ideas?"

"Yeah." Larmina darted between two enemies, clawing at their chests, inflicting mortal wounds on both but taking a hard mace hit to Blue's flank. "Keep killing them _until they die_."

"Eloquent," he grunted as Green ducked another blow. He'd tried his electronic warfare tools out of reflex, but of course they'd been no good. What was ECM against ordinary eyes? The superiority of life over technology, even if the Drules benefiting from it didn't believe in it. "I was hoping for something more specific. But that'll do."

"It will have to, my friend." Imam blocked a soldier bearing down on Black Lion, crying out as he intercepted the thrust from her spear. Vince whirled to back him up, launching a full salvo that left little but her armored boots behind. "They are forming for a coordinated assault."

That they were. Five other soldiers with spears had lined up in a rough V formation, staring down the lions. The leader sneered, leveling her weapon and looking at her companions. "Business before pleasure, boys. Charge!"

As the soldiers charged, shaking the earth, Bruno felt a cold burn take hold in his chest. _Business before pleasure?_ These beasts were actually _enjoying_ this carnage... with a snarl of fury he pushed Green Lion forward to meet their charge.

"Bruno!"

"Just back me!" The others couldn't move, they had to protect Daniel from any flanking attacks. That was fine. He could handle this himself. Leaping at the leader of the formation he pulled the trigger on everything Green had.

She took a stab at him, literally. The spear ripped into the lion's chest, severing two of the exposed cables from the neck and nearly prying the attached armor plate clean off. But it didn't save her. Even as Bruno gritted his teeth and growled at the feedback, Green's wind cannon ripped the spear from the soldier's hands, just before a flurry of lasers and blades ripped them off. His back turret finished the job, blasting a hole straight through her chest.

Maybe it hadn't been the smartest move he'd ever made.

He came down hard, tumbling to one side; he'd lost control of Green's left front leg. Apparently those cables were fairly important. Green herself seemed to be in pain, and it was still feeding back to him... as much as his anger wanted him to stand his ground, his anger suddenly didn't seem like such a great thing to be listening to after all. He whipped his tail at one of the giants behind him, flicking two blades into the Drule's face, then wheeled around to rejoin the others.

Imam had gotten tangled up with two more enemies in the meantime, and Vince had fallen back to assist. Larmina moved up to cover Bruno's retreat, Blue Lion spitting a wave of ice that halted all three of the pursuing giants. "That was nice," she complimented. "Maybe not super pragmatic, but nice."

No, definitely not pragmatic. "Appreciated." Shaking his head to try to clear the lingering feedback, he fell into formation next to Blue.

Red and Yellow Lions finished dealing with the two on their side, then backed up to rejoin the others. "So far so good, right?" Vince asked nervously.

"So far so good," Imam agreed. Then, "Perhaps we should not have mentioned it."

"...Oh, crud."

Bruno checked his own monitors. The remaining soldiers—damn, there were still a _lot_ of them—were gathering, being herded by a the survivors of the first charge into a loose ring around the lions. "Tell me if I have the expression right," he requested as he pulled Green back. "This is going to suck."

"Got it in one."

Ah, good. He was mastering human idioms. This probably wasn't the time for that, but he found a certain comfort in it; he wondered if maybe the others bickered the way they did so often for similar reasons. "Excellent. Let's do this."

The first wave of soldiers came barreling towards them, leaving the other half of their companions behind. There were so many of them they would get in each others' way. "Bring it, you overgrown pansies," Larmina hissed as she fired. The taunt was also maybe not very pragmatic, but who was he to judge?

Each of the lions brought down one of the giants as they moved in, but at least ten remained and fell on them. Green's damaged paw gave out and Bruno stumbled as he tried to dodge; the one consolation was that it still moved him a bit. A mace that had been aimed for his lion's spine only glanced off its side, leaving a large but superficial dent. That luck wasn't likely to hold out... fortunately his turret cables were still intact. A spray of plasma melted through one Drule and drove another back.

"We can't win like this!" Red Lion loosed a flurry of laser blasts, silver rather than the usual crimson, vaporizing two more giants. The remnants of the first wave were backing off to regroup. Despite that, Vince was right. It wasn't working. There was a huge hole across Red's back, and the other two weren't looking much better. "This is a battle of attrition, and they can afford to lose an awful lot more than we can."

"Hey," Lance broke in. "None of that attitude in _my_ lion. Fight smarter. They have to come to you, so use that to your advantage: remember you have more in your toolkit than guns and claws."

"The elements," Imam said quietly. "Yes. Larmina, help me!" Yellow Lion reared up and spat a massive wall of earth, forming a barrier to the left of the lions. Blue hesitated briefly then seemed to understand, matching his gesture to build a wall of thick ice to the right. "Better."

"Maybe."

"Hopefully. Here comes round two!"

Bruno moved Green to stand shoulder to shoulder with Blue, the other two taking the other side of the makeshift corridor. The second wave wasn't stupid enough to funnel in, unfortunately—instead three waited at the entrance while their companions hacked at the walls.

Of course, that did mean they were stupid enough to stand there in range of the lions' weapons. Larmina actually laughed before launching a flight of missiles; one soldier went down. Bruno was just about to add his cannon to the mix when some instinct stopped him. Instead he whirled around just in time to see part of the ice wall shatter, admitting a soldier with his sword raised to split Red Lion in half.

Green's damaged paw didn't prevent the great lion from springing forward and ripping into the giant's neck with her fangs.

"Thanks, Bruno. I owe you one."

Anything he might have said was interrupted by Black Lion shifting on the ground. "Nngggh... anyone get the number of that freight hauler?"

"Daniel!"

"Yeah, that's me. I think. Holy crap, dudes."

"Dudes?" Larmina repeated, taking another shot that forced the soldiers on her side to retreat.

"I believe in equal opportunity. Girls can be dudes too." Black Lion clambered to its feet, looking around at the battlefield. "Oh, we're still fighting the big bads, huh? You guys really do need me around!"

"No, see, let's try this again. 'Thank you guys for keeping my stupid butt intact while I took a nap in the middle of combat' would be much more appropriate."

There was that bickering again. Bruno allowed himself a chuckle before getting back to business. "Welcome back, Daniel. Maybe we should get in the air now?"

"...Oh right!" Black shot into the sky, breathing lightning over the nearest soldier. It didn't actually seem to do much; his target shrieked in pain but recovered quickly, storming forward to strike at Yellow with his sword. "...Awesome, guess I'm just a glorified taser against these things?" He followed the lightning blast up with a pair of rockets. Those worked better, taking the giant's back at the same time as Imam fired his main cannon into his chest. "Screw this. Let's form up again."

Snapping one last shot at the nearest Drule, Bruno followed.

* * *

Even during the formation, to the extent his monitors worked in that sequence, Imam was running scans. He didn't like the results he was getting.

Voltron was a bit of a mess, to put it mildly. Green Lion had successfully formed up, at least; apparently the control damage it had taken didn't affect the formation presets. But all their armor was still weakened, even breached in a few places. And there were still at least twenty of the Imperial soldiers standing. "We will be an easier target like this. Be careful."

"Yeah, yeah," Daniel grumbled as he pulled Voltron around, using its eye lasers to take down an enemy who hadn't retreated quickly enough. "I learned my lesson."

Oh. "I was not criticizing, sir."

"I would've," Lance said lightly. But his tone became a bit more serious when he added, "You've got more of them dead than alive. Don't you kids die on me _now_."

 _Halfway there_. It should have sounded more encouraging, shouldn't it? The enemy was getting into formation again. Voltron might be able to take more than one at a time, but twenty?

No. He wasn't going to fall into this. No matter how bleak things seemed, they would fight... he felt Yellow Lion's encouragement, looked over his monitors, and suddenly a flash of inspiration struck.

The nature of the enemy _mattered_. These were Imperial soldiers, not robeasts twisted to no longer feel pain or fear. Oh, they hadn't shown all that much fear so far; the Empire trained its warriors to fanatical levels. But still. They were Drules, and Drules were subject to the dictates of their own minds.

"Hold fast," he instructed the others. "I have an idea."

"Hold... what? You want us to stay still?" They formed the Blazing Sword again, dropping into a defensive crouch. "...Okay. Whatever it is you're gonna do, just do it fast. Here they come."

Closing his eyes, Imam reached deep inside of himself. Searching for the center, the Essence, as Ghostwalkers called it. The Essence was the core of the soul, eternal and universal, a binding commonality between all things. It was the Essence which allowed the living to commune with the dead. It was the Essence which Imam had always had so much trouble seeking, the reason all but the most basic rituals had been beyond his grasp.

But now, he could feel a far greater power at his side. _Yellow Lion?_ Perhaps. Yellow Lion commanded the earth, which always reclaimed the dead. He could feel it now, surrounding them—so many innocents who had fallen as the assault began, their bodies now abandoned to the earth, the echoes of their pain and fear flooding into his mind.

 _Yes. There it is!_

He felt the Blazing Sword swing, connecting with one of the giants, and for an instant there was a new sense of presence: the Imperial soldier linked to them for the space of a heartbeat by the energy of the blade. In that instant Imam unleashed everything he'd drawn into himself, trusting Voltron to know what to actually _do_ with it. Ghostwalkers did not use the Essence in such a way. But he was here because he was something more...

He felt a surge, and with it his attunement to the Essence abruptly ceased.

"What the hell?!"

"What was that?"

"Imam? What did you do?"

"Why are they all _stopping_?"

Imam opened his eyes, taking in the scene in front of them. It looked like they'd actually cut through two of the giants while he was focusing; those remaining had frozen in place. No, not quite frozen. A few of them were actually retreating, but they were all staring at Voltron with expressions of abject terror.

"...Don't just stand there," Lance yelled. "Go!"

Breaking out of its own daze, Voltron bore down on the enemy.

* * *

It didn't feel right somehow, striking down the enemies who were cowering in front of them. Bruno tried to steel himself with his hatred of their earlier atrocities—whatever fear they suddenly felt hardly absolved them of that. For his own part he was still reeling a bit from whatever had pulsed through Voltron. It was all the more disconcerting because he couldn't even really place what he'd felt... just a burst of spiritual energy that had apparently bypassed the pilots.

Presumably it was related to whatever Imam had been doing, and why the Drules seemed so frightened now. Perhaps Bruno would ask him later what a Ghostwalker actually _was_.

The Blazing Sword slashed easily through the giants, no need for any special tactics. He wasn't sure how many they took down in those few moments of respite. Not enough. As they decapitated another soldier a crushing impact struck Voltron's back, sending them crashing to the ground on top of the defeated foe.

"Okay!" Daniel had them up quickly, whirling on the Drule who'd hit them and running her straight through. "Looks like the bonus round's over."

"You're still awfully cocky for someone who sat out half the fight," Larmina grumbled. "How many do we have left?"

"Looks like... I'm seeing eight," Vince reported. "And they're about to be all over us."

"Let's get all over them first." Voltron sprang up and over the two soldiers charging from the front, though a wild midair slash failed to hit either enemy. They landed in an empty space that had probably once been a park. "If we can keep them all in front of us..."

Daniel really could be decent at tactics, when he tried. Unfortunately the Drules weren't about to cooperate. Perhaps the few who were left had survived because they were the cleverest, and not just on dumb luck. Voltron had barely landed before they were spreading out in an encircling pattern again. "What if we can't?"

"We do something else!" What 'something else' amounted to was lowering the sword and charging at one of the giants in front of them. But unlike the rest of these abominations, this one had the sense to dodge. Yes, these last soldiers were the smart ones. "Okay, so... another something else?"

"Keep moving, don't let _them_ launch an attack," Larmina suggested. "They'll slip up eventually."

"Before we do? Or after?" Bruno shook his head. It was a good stalling tactic, but it wasn't a strategy for victory. "We need to find a way to engage them all at once. It's the only way they're going to allow it."

"Yeah, and they'll allow it because it really hasn't been working out for us so far." They tried another charge, and this time Voltron nearly lost a wing for its trouble.

 _Enough of them to overwhelm us. But few enough left to make them cagey. We can only focus on one at a time..._ Bruno's eyes widened. No. That wasn't true at all. "We have to split up again!"

A hesitation as Daniel tried to get them a little separation. It didn't work very well, and maybe that was what convinced him. "...Good call, Catman. Everyone get ready!" Voltron leapt into the air just as the Drules surrounding them charged.

For the second time today Voltron's limbs detached, but this time from a position of power. Five snarling lions bore down on the giants, technology and the elements uniting in a rain of death. The charging Drules couldn't even try to move in time. Each lion's full arsenal brought one of them down, and now only three remained...

Suddenly the tables were turned.

The three remaining soldiers backed up against each other as the lions circled. Good tactics, not turning their backs on any enemies. But it didn't matter. The Force knew it, and they had to know it. What did it matter if they turned their backs when they went down just as easily from the front? Numbers had been their only advantage, and that advantage was gone.

And yet... once more it didn't feel right to just execute them. Maybe he just couldn't hate enough; maybe hatred was no weapon for a defender of life, no matter how justified it may be. Where had it gotten him in this battle? All it had done was lost Green Lion a leg. And that thought was why suddenly Bruno found himself limping forward and broadcasting. "Lay down your weapons. We will accept your surrender."

"We will?" Daniel and Larmina both asked at once.

"We will," Bruno said firmly. "Don't know what we'll do with it yet. But we'll accept it."

Two of the giant soldiers, one male and one female, looked at each other. They nodded quietly, and dropped their heavy maces to the ground. "We sur—"

"You'll do no such thing, traitors!" The last of the three whirled on his companions, lashing out with his sword. "The Empire does not breed cowards!" Before the two could even react he'd cut them both down, and lunged at Green Lion with an incoherent cry of fury.

Missiles and lasers erupted from all sides, vaporizing him in the midst of his charge, and a stifling silence fell on the battlefield.

"...Um... okay then?" Vince spoke for all of them when he broke the silence, Bruno was pretty sure. There was nothing else to say.

"...Priorities, kids." Even Lance sounded shaken. "Pile those bodies up, as far on the outskirts as you can get them. I'll get in touch with the city leadership and ask what they want us to do about the mess. "

Raising Green's head to look around at the battlefield, Bruno nearly choked on his next breath. Everything around them was obliterated, though most of it had been that way when they got here. What hadn't been there were the huge corpses scattered over the landscape, staining the streets and the rubble with deep red-violet blood.

"Oh." Now it was Daniel who spoke for all of them. "Well that's not creepy at _all._ "

"The sooner you clean it up, the less creepy it'll be. Get to it."

* * *

Kaela found Serek on one of the ship's observation decks, staring through the heavily reinforced ferroglass at the verdant world below. He did not look happy. In fact, Kaela might go so far as to say he was brooding.

"Prince Serek? Are you well?"

He gave a slight shrug, not seeming at all surprised by her arrival. "As well as can be expected."

"I try to avoid forming expectations. It's a liability."

"Yes, for you I suppose it would be." Pause. "Perhaps they are foolish after all... or at least mine haven't worked out so well for me lately."

This would be enlightening. "Oh?"

"My warriors," he said quietly. "I trained them, taught them to battle equal foes, tried to instill in them the honor of the Empire. I knew I was sending most of them to die on this mission. To trade their lives for the destruction of Voltron, for our victory. But you saw what came of it." He turned to her, and even the usually unflappable spymaster took a step back at the anger in his eyes. "I didn't send them to commit that kind of _slaughter_."

 _Interesting_. Did he care about the humans? That could be a liability, if the war was to continue. Then again, continuing the war may or may not be in the Empire's best interests. And she supposed he might not be worried about the humans at all; perhaps his soldiers behaving that was would bother him no matter who they attacked. _He treats honor as a virtue in itself. Tread carefully_. "It was rather unnecessary."

"It was disgraceful!" He clenched his fists. "I warned Sharilar. She promised to maintain their dignity. And instead she turned them into those bloodthirsty _beasts_."

Ah, so he was blaming the witch. Was he so blind? Kaela didn't think so. "Why are you here, my lord? Were you not observing in the throne room with your father?"

The look he gave her confirmed what she'd thought. No, the prince wasn't so blind... even if he badly wanted to be. "I decided to go elsewhere," he said delicately, "when he and Lord Zeliax got into a tactical dispute that I didn't care to be drawn into."

Of course Kaela had already known that. She'd be a rather poor spy if she didn't, wouldn't she? The collaborator had argued against the attack on the city, pointing out it would only incite the defenders. Naturally Serek wouldn't want to be drawn into that argument. He would never allow himself to be seen publicly siding with some _human_ over his father. Though his calling that same human 'Lord' struck her as quite odd. "Do you have such respect for the blasphemer, Prince Serek?"

Shrug. "I approve of his pragmatism, and he seems clever enough. I hardly blame him for Sharilar's failures. Father must have a similar opinion, since he hasn't had him executed yet." Then he cocked his head, calming slightly. "Why do you ask that?"

"Only curiosity. Information is my business, you recall." She joined him at the window. Arus really was a lovely thing to look at from orbit, she supposed. "Did you watch the battle with Voltron, then?"

He gestured to a data terminal set into the wall. "Every bit of it." Rather than pressing she just looked at him, waiting. It worked. "And you are waiting for me to comment on the end of the battle, at which point you will insinuate that my father is at fault, and I will be forced to dismiss you from my presence despite knowing full well you're right."

A hint of a smile tugged at Kaela's lips. "Perhaps I should recruit you as an analyst."

"I think you'd find me less than effective. I can only state the obvious, Overseer." He sighed. "Do you know one of the first things I did when Father gave me command of the infantry?"

"All respect, my lord, but I know _everything_ you did when your father gave you command of the infantry. Perhaps you could specify?"

"...Right." He looked away. "I had my warriors swear an oath of loyalty, to serve and protect the Emperor and his people. I was the first to take that oath."

 _Indeed. And what will you do when your loyalty to the Empire and the Emperor can no longer be reconciled?_ She couldn't ask him that so bluntly. She'd pushed too hard as it was. If he had a mind to, he could report her for treason right now... but he wouldn't. His own conflict was too great. "I see."

"What is it you expect me to do, Kaela? I can only try to reason with him, as I have been."

Nod. "That's all that can be asked of you, and all I wanted to know. I'll leave you to your thoughts now; you have my apologies for the interruption."

She was well aware of his skeptical eyes on her as she departed, but everything she'd said had been true. No, she could ask nothing else of the prince. Certainly not that he actually move against his father. No matter. She didn't need Serek to actively participate, she only needed him not to be too upset by what came next. Whatever it actually was that came next... her exact path she was still working to determine. But now her direction was set.

* * *

Piling up the bodies had been an even more gruesome task than Daniel had expected, and he'd expected it to be pretty bad. The intact bodies were one thing. That wasn't so awful. It was the great many who hadn't been kind enough to die in one piece that were the problem. Black Lion had carried enough giant body parts around in the last half hour to give him several lifetimes worth of nightmares.

There wasn't much they could do about the blood. It was all over the district, and by the time they were finished with corpse transport, all over the lions too—though really they'd had plenty on them from the battle already.

 _Nothing like this ever happened in the Lion Force games_. That thought got him a brief glimmer of reproach from Black.

"What?" he muttered to the cockpit. "And don't you tell me war is messy and nasty and stuff. The _legend_ you brought me here for tends to leave that part out." A bit more reproach, this time enough to make him realize he'd missed the point. "...I _am_ taking this seriously, trust me. There's a few hundred gallons of serious out there. Cut me a little slack, I didn't expect fighting robeasts and warships to involve quite so much _blood_."

His lion seemed to find that fair, at least. It was an odd truth. Daniel had more or less understood taking this mission meant risking death—if they lost, which he certainly had no intention of doing. The dying or not dying bit had felt like a calculated risk, one he had some control over. Fly like an ace, stay alive. Simple.

Somehow the idea of killing the bad guys had not set in at the same time.

"We've got permission from the locals," Lance announced over the comms. "Light 'em up."

They'd been waiting for that; the best way to deal with the huge pile of corpses they'd collected had seemed to be burning them. That, obviously, had all kinds of complications that might be worse than the initial problem. Apparently whoever was in charge of the city felt it was worth it. So now Yellow Lion dug a large pit around the pile, pushing the excavated dirt up into a wall for extra security. "Go ahead, Vince."

"On it." Red Lion's eyes glowed with that now-familiar silver energy, and it let loose with a massive gout of white-hot flame. The pile caught fire instantly, consumed more quickly than anything that big ought to have been, sending a huge cloud of smoke billowing into the gathering twilight. " _Dude_. I think we might have just altered the climate of Arus for a bit."

"Might have," Lance agreed. "Imam, Larmina, patrol the burn area. Bruno, stand by in case the winds shift. Vince, Daniel, stay on the ground, just keep your eyes open for... anything."

"On it." Daniel had no idea what Lance thought they were watching for, and he doubted Lance knew either. It was just something to do. Something to pretend to be busy with while the biggest bonfire in Arusian history roared behind them.

Vince brought Red down to stand next to Black, and the comms crackled; an icon indicated the channel was only to the other lions. "Did that... bother... anyone else?"

"What, you mean the part where the evil giant Drule soldier freaked out and killed his own squadmates before they could surrender?" Larmina's voice oozed sarcasm. "Why would that bother us?"

"It was not a great surprise," Imam countered. "The Empire is ruthless, and when they had already ended so many innocent lives, why would they hesitate to turn upon each other?"

Bruno growled agreement. "They proved it repeatedly. They have no respect for any life. As bad as the real robeasts. If not worse."

"...Yeah, all that was bad too," Vince agreed, "but that isn't exactly what I was asking about."

Daniel turned Black's head to study the lion next to him. Red didn't look nearly as creepy as the rest of them; the blood splattered over it almost blended in. But he was pretty sure he knew what Vince was getting at. "The part where we just hacked apart a few dozen bad guys that were," he cleared his throat, "within normal biological parameters?"

"Yes!" He sounded a bit relieved to have had it voiced for him. "That. Did _that_ bother anyone?"

"No," Larmina answered simply. That didn't surprise Daniel. _War isn't an afternoon tea party, either._

"It was regrettable," Imam said after another minute. "But they made choices which brought them to be in that place, and our ending them was just. Even those who would have surrendered had committed great atrocities. They will answer to the Lords of the Dead now, and our dwelling on that fate can change nothing."

Daniel wasn't sure about these Lords of the Dead, but the rest of that seemed reasonable. "So basically they were asking for it, and that's not our problem."

"You could put it that way."

He could live with that. Vince didn't seem quite so easily reassured. "I know. They totally deserved it, but even then, they just... they went down so easy."

"They did," Bruno agreed. "I've been thinking the same thing. We are the Voltron Force. Defenders. It feels wrong to strike down those who can't put up a fight. But it's an illusion." Green Lion was pacing unsteadily on three legs, lit by the glow of the fire. "They were still far stronger than those we defend. It isn't Voltron's strength that determines a true threat. It's the damage done to those under our protection."

It sounded like he'd spent a fair bit of time thinking on that, though his lion seemed to contradict his conclusion. "You're not the one I'd expect to hear saying they weren't a threat, Catman. No offense, but you _are_ looking kinda rough."

"Maybe an overstatement. Though this was my own fault." Green tilted its head to indicate the sliced cables. "I let myself be blinded by hate. I'd like to think I learned from it."

 _What's not to hate?_ Daniel wondered as he looked back at the devastated city. But maybe Bruno had a point too. They weren't fighting out of hatred. They were fighting to protect, to save lives... and because flying robot demigod lions was _awesome_.

"It's not hate," Larmina joined in. "It's justice. You don't pull your punches against anyone, you don't cripple your own ability to fight just to make it more 'fair'. That's not a fight, that's a game." Blue landed and took a few steps towards the city. "These guys aren't playing."

"...No, they're not," Vince agreed softly. "Thanks, guys."

"Do you feel better?" Imam asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"A little. But I think I'm going to keep hoping we just have to deal with more boring, brainless robeasts from now on."

Daniel looked over the blood, leaned back in his seat, and said what he was positive everyone was thinking. "Amen to _that_."


	9. Perspectives (1)

Reawakening  
Chapter 8: Perspectives (1)

 _This is replacing the prior upload of this chapter, but it's the same content, just different formatting. I'd been advised to split it into two chapters due to length, but after taking that advice and uploading it I didn't like how it flowed at all. So now I'm uploading the one chapter in two parts just for readability. This uh, won't be the only time.  
Thanks for reading, and enjoy!_

* * *

Serek stood before the throne with the rest of the command staff, grimacing as his father railed at them. After her army's defeat, Sharilar had insisted on creating a robeast up to her own standards with no input from Zeliax. That had been enlightening. It had also been fairly embarrassing. Not that the monster hadn't put up a fight, but it hadn't come anywhere near victory either.

 _What must Voltron have been like in its prime?_ No, he knew the answer to that. The history texts were clear. _Terrifying_.

Finally the emperor wound down. "Now then. Witch-Primus, get out of my sight, and I suggest you meditate on the fate of your predecessor, who you may recall let his _ego_ get in the way of his _duty_. The rest of you will remain! We have much to discuss."

That was not at all how Serek recalled the execution of the former Witch-Primus, but he wasn't about to raise the issue. Neither was Sharilar, who fled immediately. Next to her, the prince couldn't help noticing the way Kaela shifted, following the witch's retreat until she was out of sight and then returning her attention to her lord. "We await your orders, sire."

"I will not make the same mistakes as Zarkon and Lotor. My triumph will not be denied." He leaned back in his throne, caressing the hilt of his sword. The command staff was mostly immune to that gesture by now, though had she still been present Sharilar might have felt otherwise. "Those fools _had_ the answer. They had it and abandoned it. The one true victory of the Zarkonian War was the defeat of the Blue Lion pilot on the ground. We need only to draw the children out from their walls and slaughter them."

Well that _was_ interesting...

"No." Several startled looks fell on Zeliax, who'd been standing in the shadows off to the side. Now he stepped forward, his voice cold. "The lions are impervious within their dens. Kill the pilots, and they are trapped there. Entirely counterproductive to destroying Voltron."

For a few moments, Kargil just stared as if he didn't even grasp the objection. Then he scowled. "We won't need to destroy it, obviously. Kill the meat and the metal rots, useless."

"That wasn't our agreement."

"Our agreement?" The emperor's eyes flared with fury. "Such sophistry! Our agreement was that you would give us the necessary tools to destroy the robot, and yet it stands!"

"And I believe we just learned how close you would've gotten without me, yes?"

"Mind your tone, human. When this planet is subjugated, we will drag the lions from their dens. My forces will melt them to slag as I demand the Alliance's surrender. Your objection is ridiculous."

"Hardly. You saw the attack on Black Lion's statue. If you could simply drag the lions out of their dens, I'd have advised you to do that already."

" _Enough_ , Zeliax!" Kargil's grip on his sword tightened, and for once Serek was pretty certain he was actually on the edge of drawing it. "You are here at my sufferance, and my word is law! This is how we will proceed. If you wish to be part of the Empire's glory, I suggest you stop complaining and tell me what we need to know to carry it out!"

The collaborator paused, a silence just bordering on insolence. Serek found himself deeply intrigued despite himself. He was fearless, this Zeliax, and he felt so dangerous. Yet he'd shown no sign of being anything but a scholar. Was his courage simply arrogance? And why was this the line he was choosing to hold?

Though ultimately he didn't hold it. "...You need to know this won't be as simple as you think. The Force carries tactical devices called voltcoms, capable of generating advanced armor and weaponry. They've been known to function at full capacity even with the lions disabled; they will not be weakened as Voltron is, and will outclass your soldiers' equipment accordingly." He paused a moment, right hand absently toying with the edge of his cloak. "How well they know how to _use_ that equipment, I can't tell you, though hand to hand combat was a part of the Academy curriculum."

"Indeed." Kargil frowned. "What do you recommend, then?"

"Deploy as though you're conducting a mission to assassinate five small robeasts, not five people. Expect your losses to be correspondingly high."

Telok scoffed. "Now you're going too far, Zeliax. What do you think we need to do, waste a whole battalion on a simple ground ambush?"

"Potentially. Have you studied the Battle of Galra, Admiral?"

Snarl. "Of course I have."

"Then you should already know this as well as I do. The Force didn't use Voltron to bring the Quasar facility down."

Telok paused, and Serek raised an eyebrow. That was true. According to the handful of survivors' accounts, the humans had been forced to storm the mad scientist Maahox's base on foot, to deny Lotor the Quasar's power. Nobody had stopped to think too much about how that had been possible; it was just another failure of the former king's madness. "...I see."

Kargil leaned forward. "So we will send a large force. An armored company if necessary. How do we draw them out?"

Serek opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. Shouldn't he have some say in this operation? His troops had already been co-opted for questionable purposes once. But that same fact was precisely what made him pause. It didn't matter.

 _I swore an oath_...

In response to the emperor's question, Zeliax just shook his head. "I know nothing of the new cubs, or what motivates them. You'll have to come up with that answer yourself."

That won him a scowl. "Very well. Other suggestions?"

"Perhaps a simple decoy." Kaela's eyes were on the floor, brow furrowed in thought. "Knowledge is everything in warfare. We have seen the value a defector can have," she gestured to Zeliax, "and the humans are not fools. They'd surely be equally interested in such a source. My scouts have been marking caves in the Arusian mountains, networks the lions could never fit into; they would be an ideal place for such a defector to take shelter from the Empire's vengeance."

"And an ideal place to slaughter the children." Kargil bared his fangs in a wicked grin. "Very good. Serek, select a squad to meet them, and we will end this nonsense once and for all."

"If I may, sire." The overseer bowed to the emperor, then turned and addressed Serek. "I will provide the decoy. Your soldiers will be unlikely to reach the caverns without being seen; my scouts know the area well enough to slip in undetected."

... _What are you up to?_ He studied her for a long moment, trying to discern the spymaster's motives. She seemed sincere enough, but their recent discussions made him wary. Still, she had a point. And if Zeliax was correct about these voltcoms, a single squad of his soldiers would be ineffective anyway. "Of course. Tell them to be cautious; the infantry can do the fighting. Just flush them out."

"Of course," she nodded, and her unreadable expression only concerned him more.

 _No, you can't afford these worries. Battle is waiting, and your people need leadership_. Thoughts of the last debacle involving his warriors darkened the prince's expression. "In order to avoid a repeat of their previous... disgrace, I will lead my troops personally."

Kaela gave him a startled look, but said nothing. So the spymaster _could_ be caught off guard. No matter. Other opinions were more important; he waited for his father to object, and was surprised to hear him laugh instead. "Good, good. High time you itched for battle. Go then, prepare. Bring glory to my Empire!"

 _...Well then._

The command staff dispersed, and he gestured to Telok at the entrance to the throne room. Given the nature of the fight against Voltron, the troop cruisers had been waiting on rather low-priority standby. "Admiral, if you would, ready the _Gargoyle_ for battle and activate the _Executioner_ as backup. I'd like transport to the _Gargoyle_ as soon as possible."

"Aye, sir. It'll be an hour or so, the shuttle's being unloaded from a supply run."

"That's fine. Thank you."

As Telok departed, the prince turned to head for his quarters. Then he paused, catching sight of a silhouette on the main observation deck. Zeliax had retreated to the reinforced window and was gazing out almost pensively. If he could be considered to look pensive despite his mask, anyway.

Well, he had some time. His other duty was to figure out this enigma, was it not?

Serek approached hesitantly. The shrouded figure was ominous in his own right—it wasn't simply the name he dared to bear. And yet there was something about him. Something that did not invoke dread, something that was almost... sad.

 _There's no glory in empty sacrifice_.

 _My people no longer exist._

"Lord Zeliax?"

The shadow stiffened. "I've asked you to dispense with the 'lord' nonsense."

"Apologies. Your name makes familiarity a bit... counter-intuitive." Serek lowered his eyes. "May I ask a question?"

"You just did. Go ahead and ask another."

That wasn't entirely promising, but with Zeliax it was undoubtedly the best he would get, so he gathered his thoughts and forged ahead. "Why did you argue against killing the pilots? Why is it only Voltron itself that matters?"

"...Oh. Is that all?" A low, cold laugh. "It's quite simple. That machine is a curse, Prince Serek, and the universe will be better off without it. The pilots are irrelevant, just another set of Alliance pawns to be used until they break. Killing them accomplishes nothing of value."

Serek frowned, taking that in, trying to make sense of it. "Your quarrel is with the Alliance, then? You seek to destroy Voltron as their symbol?"

"You couldn't comprehend my 'quarrel', nor should you have to." Zeliax shook his head. "And it doesn't matter anyway. You can have no victory while Voltron still exists—even if you were to conquer the Alliance, its legend would be a rallying point for your resistance. No matter how thoroughly it's driven underground, that legend always endures. You've seen it yourself. Voltron hadn't been seen in three and a half centuries, yet even your father knew it would rise to face him without doubt."

Perhaps he had a point there. Even as his father had stripped away the Warden reforms, even as Admiral Telok had rebuilt a warfleet and Serek himself trained a mighty army, the specter of Voltron had hovered over the preparations. "I... understand."

"Don't lie, Prince Serek. Especially not so badly." The collaborator returned his gaze to the window. "But you don't need to understand."

 _...We'll agree to disagree on that for now_. But suddenly understanding seemed like a much lower priority than getting to the _Gargoyle_. Or at least getting somewhere else. Anywhere else. With a nod to Zeliax's back, Serek departed.

* * *

"The more robeasts they send down here, the more I wonder if they've forgotten how to make the damn things. This is getting ridiculous."

Lance stood in front of the main monitor, watching the five cadets as they watched the battle footage. Such as it was. The robeast that had attacked the day before had been strong and tough, but hadn't had much else going for it. None of the tailored tricks of the others, just raw power. Not that raw power wasn't dangerous, but... well, with what the Drules had thrown at them so far, raw power wasn't all that _powerful_.

"If it's so ridiculous why are we sitting here talking about it?" Daniel asked, leaning back in the holographic chair he'd called up.

Oh, the cubs could still learn plenty from it, which was why he was drilling them now. "Because I'm the boss and I say you need to. Now look, right there." He paused the footage as the robeast, a bull, gored Black Lion with its horns. "Who wants to tell the mighty leader why he got himself perforated here?"

"Because he ran in like an idiot as usual?" Larmina suggested under her breath.

"Hey now. No humiliating your fellow cadets; that is _my_ job. Do you have a real answer or do I have to find something you did wrong, too?"

She winced as Daniel snickered. "Um, he uh... zigged when he should've zagged? Or maybe zagged when he should've zigged."

"He fell for a feint," Imam broke in before his commander could mock his teammates further. "The monster had indicated its focus was on Green Lion, but was only baiting us to strike at his seemingly exposed side."

"Excellent," Lance nodded, drawing a slight glow from the Ghostwalker's eyes that he thought might be a Drule equivalent of a blush. "Now who wants to tell me what he can do differently next time?"

Vince was sitting on a powered-down console, and shifted uncomfortably. "Be more careful about taking easy openings. Take shots at range, but make sure the enemy is really committed before you go in close."

Nod. "In other words," he gestured appreciatively to Larmina, "don't run in like an idiot." Giving this lecture with a straight face was difficult. Fortunately, not even Daniel seemed to know how often _he'd_ heard this exact argument in his day. His hotheadedness was apparently lost to the history books as well... and while he rather prided himself on that trait, right now it was more convenient for the cubs not to know about it.

The future had its moments.

Before he could resume play, the console Vince was sitting on crackled to life, and he jumped up with a startled squawk. "Dude! Not funny!" Pause. "Oh, guess you didn't do that, huh? Um, we're picking up a general comms broadcast, text only." He looked at the console. "Should I...?"

"You know you're dying to push buttons on that thing. Go ahead."

Grinning as wide as Lance had ever seen, he got to work. "It's pretty garbled, but it's on the other end, must be transmitting from somewhere with some interference. Bringing it up the best I can." As he finished speaking, glowing words popped up on the main screen.

 **...ltron Force... ve information for... to ground in your Atreu... dinates are embedded... o join your cause... not sure how long...**

 _Well that's interesting_...

Vince looked up again. "That's all the text I could pick up, but the embedded coordinates came through okay. They're somewhere off to the west, not too far from the complex."

"The Atreus Mountains," Larmina said.

Lance nodded; it wasn't the same range Red's volcano was part of, but he was plenty familiar with it. "Those mountains are a maze of caves, and the whole range is full of comm-scrambling metals. A lot of people hid there after Zarkon razed the planet... back in my time." Frown. The rest of the communication might put the 'mess' in 'message', but the gist of it seemed clear enough. "Looks like we've got a defector hiding out there now. Apparently one being hunted down, if I'm reading that last bit right."

A Drule defector. _That_ was a novel concept.

Imam seemed to think so too, which struck him as a bit ironic. "I do not trust this. The Imperials are treacherous, and would not hesitate to ambush us with precisely this sort of lie."

"Maybe." Bruno tilted his head. "Shouldn't we err on the side of life?"

"I think maybe we'd better err on the side of _our_ lives," Vince muttered. "I'm running a terrain scan on those coordinates. The lions would be badly boxed in almost anywhere in that range, and they couldn't even come close to fitting inside the caves."

"That's okay." For the first time Larmina looked genuinely excited about a potential battle. "We've got weapons."

"She's right," Daniel agreed, bringing up his claws. "We can find somewhere to hide the lions when we get there, and take on whatever's in the caves on foot. No problem."

"We shouldn't take them at all." Bruno had turned to study the monitors. "Vince is right. The caves are too small. Better to go on foot and be more difficult to detect."

"...Really going to go through with this, huh?" The new Red Lion pilot nodded in grudging agreement. "Then yeah. It would be safer to leave the lions in their dens than try to hide them out there in the mountains."

"Not bad, cubs." Lance gave a wry grin. "You're starting to live up to the legacy: combat, tactics, and potentially suicidal idealism!" He wasn't sure how he felt about this himself. They hadn't trained with the voltcom weapons much, other than Larmina apparently springing impromptu sparring matches on them during their free time. On the other hand, it was almost too good to pass up... especially with how confusing the Drules had been so far.

"Is that supposed to be encouraging?"

"Matter of fact, yes." He crossed his arms. "You need to check this out one way or another. I'll defer to you kids on tactics, since you seem to have a decent idea running already, but we can't really afford to let this slip by."

Imam and Vince still looked a bit doubtful, but then the Ghostwalker nodded. "Risk is as much part of battle as caution. We should go swiftly then, should we not?"

Nod. "Get to it."

* * *

The trip to the mountains was longer than Larmina would've guessed. They weren't rushing or anything, that would be silly if they were walking into a battle, but they were taking it at a pretty decent clip... still it took two hours to reach the foot of the mountain in question. There was a rocky path, which she'd expected, and tall yellowish grass all around it, which she hadn't. "Huh. There's more vegetation here than I would've thought."

"That's because it's camouflaged. Which is weird, by the way." Daniel began to make his way up the path. "Magic Man, get up here and navigate, would you?"

"Yeah, sure." Vince picked up his pace a little, joining Daniel at the front of the group. "It's not too far up. I still can't believe we're doing this."

"Learn to live a little, dude." Daniel slapped him on the back. "We'll be fine. We've got Mean Mina backing us."

... _Mean Mina?_ "You realize once we get finished with this I still know where you sleep, right? Just because I can't break you in half right _now_..."

"See? I rest my case."

Bruno chuckled, and she gave him a withering glare. If she had to teach him about 'the bigger they are, the harder they fall' she could do that, too. Imam wisely opted to stay silent.

She really was excited, and supposed that wasn't helping her reputation any. But how could she not be? They might finally get to fight on her turf. Much as she may have more or less made peace with flying, _this_ was her element... she almost hoped it really was a trap. Almost. It would be better for Arus if the defector were for real, and that had to come first. But it would be way more fun if they got jumped by a few Drules expecting nothing but a few wimpy flyboys.

They spent a few more minutes walking in silence, the terrain getting progressively rougher and steeper. Up ahead rock walls began to rise up on either side of the path. Yeah, this was totally ambush territory, and Vince speaking up only confirmed it. "We're getting close."

"We probably should not go racing in blind," Imam said mildly. "Caution remains a concern."

"Always with the caution," Daniel muttered. "Okay, so what do we do to go into this cautiously?"

"I'll scout ahead," Bruno volunteered. And to Larmina's surprise he dropped to all fours, charging into the grass and vanishing more quickly than she would've thought possible.

"...Who knew? Catman can apparently magically transform into Mancat. Works for me." Their more or less accepted leader glanced at his voltcom. "Maybe we better check in, huh? Lance, you read?" A crackle of static was the only reply. "Guess not."

"These mountains will play hell on comms." Vince frowned. "One more reason this is a terrible idea..."

"You worry too much," Larmina snorted. Though she supposed someone around here ought to. Tactics and stuff. "Just relax, and when there's actually something to panic about, then you can panic, okay? Right now it's just us and a bunch of dead grass."

"Wasn't panicking," he grumbled. "Just saying."

That conversation ended as Bruno appeared in the distance, jogging upright. That seemed like a good sign for this not being a trap, a bad sign for getting any entertainment out of this trip. "The pass is clear," he reported. "If there's an ambush it isn't here. Could be hiding in a cave. But so far so good."

Daniel nodded, putting on what Larmina recognized as his Command Face. It mostly made him look heavily overcaffeinated, but whatever made him happy, she supposed. "Okay team, let's move!"

* * *

They found the cave easily enough—a small corridor of stone just big enough for two of them to walk side by side, twisting sharply off to the left. Perfect for an ambush. In fact, so perfect it would almost feel silly if there _weren't_ an ambush.

Sure enough, five Drules were waiting in the cave; they didn't appear to be soldiers, or at least they weren't wearing armor. They had weapons, though. Four of them were drawn, but the fifth was not—standing in the center and slightly behind the others, a stocky violet-haired woman in mountain camo simply watched them impassively.

 _And here we go!_ Daniel's claws sprang to life immediately. The central Drule's gaze fell on him, taking that in, glowing eyes meeting his. She nodded once. It didn't seem to be a signal to the others. Was she trying to tell _him_ something? An instant later he got his answer. The other four lunged, weapons drawn, and the woman pulled a dagger... and drove it into the back of one of her own companions, dropping him to the ground with a startled shriek.

 _What the hell is with these guys?!_

At least the other three Drules seemed just as shocked as he was, whirling around to see their fallen comrade. "Overseer!"

"My apologies, Venla. This is necessary." She flipped the dagger into the speaker's throat, and she silently collapsed.

Any interest the other two may have had in the Force disappeared instantly.

"I think the battle lines are drawn," Bruno observed, extending his claws as glowing gauntlets appeared on his hands. "We should help."

"Yes." Imam called up what looked like a bladed boomerang. "Whatever trick this is may be more complicated than we thought."

Daniel nodded as the other two called their weapons; Larmina charged with her staff immediately, while Vince hung back looking uncomfortable. His weapon was a wicked spiked mace, and he didn't seem quite certain what to do with it. That was okay, though. They had this.

Larmina actually beat Imam's boomerang to the two Drules, slamming her staff into the small of one's back as the bladed projectile whirled around the other. Her target screamed and stumbled around to face her. "Not having a very good day, are you?" she smirked, and hit him in the head so hard Daniel heard the crack.

 _Dude_...

The enemy Imam had targeted barely even seemed to have been hit, but staggered backwards with blood pouring from his chest. That looked like a good place to pile on; Daniel raised his talons and focused, and the claw blades shot out like a trio of crackling knives. As he went down, someone else cried out in pain—the one who'd first been stabbed in the back had actually managed to get up again and lunge, but Bruno had pounced to bring him down for good.

For a moment, the final Drule remained in a wary defensive stance, watching them. When nobody actually hit her she straightened slightly. "Good. You can see I'm not your enemy."

Larmina hadn't attacked, but she _was_ holding her staff in a threatening stance five feet away. "Who exactly are you, then?"

"My name is Kaela." She inclined her head slightly. "I am the Eye of Avernoth, overseer of the Sentinels."

Imam glanced around at the others, seeming to realize they didn't catch the reference. "The Imperial intelligence agency. She would be Emperor Kargil's spymaster."

"Oh, good," Vince muttered under his breath. "I was afraid she might be somebody important." It was sometimes awfully hard to tell the difference between Vince's pessimism and plain old snark.

Daniel had other immediate concerns, in any case; he focused on Kaela. "And you say you're not our enemy, huh? Why should we believe this isn't still a trap?"

"This _is_ a trap," she answered calmly, "but my defection is real enough. I'll answer your questions. Perhaps you'll even live to make use of it." She raised her arm, revealing a deep wound in her side. "...It seems I will not."

* * *

 _With all your preparation, with the fate of the Empire in the balance, you fall so easily? Perhaps the Emperor was right about the weakness of caution? No. You weren't cautious_ enough, _now you pay the price._

Kaela was furious, though she was doing her best not to show it. She'd left nothing to chance, ensured the Voltron pilots wouldn't strike her down, and she'd gotten careless against her own guards. Their deaths were inconsequential; she'd chosen them carefully, those who most fanatically believed in the Emperor's madness. But her own death? She was willing to die for the good of the Empire, but doing it like this would complicate things.

It wasn't as if she had any say in the matter anymore.

 _Very well. Make the most of the time you have left._

The Voltron Force was quite the mix; they'd have been fascinating to study and profile. Three appeared to be human, a male and female of the pale variety along with one dark male. They were backed by an enormous feline-looking creature, and the fifth... her lip curled slightly. A Ghostwalker. Those shameful exiles who'd abandoned their own homes to become an Alliance puppet state. Of course one would be fighting his own kind. Then again, perhaps she shouldn't scorn the exiles. Their way seemed to work much better for them than anything Kargil was doing.

"We can get you out of here," the cat creature said, breaking the silence that had followed her pronouncement. "Back to the castle. You could be healed there."

The offer was intriguing. The prior Voltron Force had been noted for their ideals, scorned by the mad kings for them—though they'd had the last laugh, hadn't they? Such an easy offer of aid told her that trait had endured. But it was no use. "You're going to have to fight your way out of here, and I have perhaps twenty minutes at best. Poison."

"But—"

"—If I'm to give my life to aid you, I'd prefer you not waste it."

The Ghostwalker tilted his head. "What sort of aid? And what is the price for it?"

...Well, now that he mentioned it, that was a little less simple now that she was bleeding all over the cave.

She'd had it all planned out. Defect, earn their trust, then set Voltron upon the flagship. Powerful as the _Hellbringer_ was, she could tell them every secret, every weak point, reduce it to little but a target for the robot's sword. She'd been prepared to forewarn Serek when that day came, ensure his survival... what came after that would be tenuous, but at least someone _sane_ would hold the throne. Her probing conversations had told her that whatever he did, it wouldn't be indulging blind and destructive vengeance.

Now? Serek still had to survive, but she couldn't tell the humans that. Never mind that he would be a far better emperor than his father; the simple fact was that there were no other heirs to the Umbral Throne. Kargil had eliminated every possible rival, except the loyal son he'd raised so thoroughly under his thumb. Giving them information on the fleet could be disastrous.

But they could still be useful...

They just needed to keep holding out. Prevent Kargil from earning the victory that would doom his people. Because he _could_ take Arus, most likely. And that would feed his mania, lead him to try to sustain his tactics despite the unsustainable losses. Failure here would not be good for the Empire, but a successful conquest would be catastrophic.

"...I can give you information. That's why you risked coming here, isn't it? We'll just have to do it more quickly."

They didn't look convinced, but the dark-skinned human banished his weapon. "Okay. We can't really say no to that, right? I guess the big question is what the heck is going on with this invasion?" That was incredibly unhelpful as questions went, and he seemed to realize it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "I mean, your first few robeasts seemed to know so much about Voltron. But they aren't all that powerful. And then this last one..."

"The last one was a product of politics and frustration. Don't expect that to happen again." His other point had been interesting; it mirrored the collaborator's words. "You know our robeasts are weak because you know Voltron itself is weak, yes? We know that as well. But we've only recently recovered the technology and magic to create the monsters. The witches are as inexperienced as you are."

"Huh. Lance thought he was joking," the one in black, presumably the leader, muttered. "They really _did_ forget how to make robeasts."

"Um, that's the part of that you latched onto?" the girl scowled. "She just told us they know Voltron's weakened, don't you think that might be a little more important? Or have some bigmouths on Earth been putting that on news reports for anyone to hear?"

"Nothing so simple." Kaela shook her head. "There is a collaborator. Who he really is, I can't tell you; he keeps his face hidden, and only calls himself Zeliax." The Ghostwalker blanched at that, and she indicated her own acknowledgment. "I believe he must have been highly placed within the Alliance, based on his level of knowledge... though the emperor's habit of hearing only what he wants to hear limits his effectiveness."

"Zeliax?" The Ghostwalker frowned. "But he is not Drule? To know such things he must have researched very thoroughly."

"Yes. Research seems to be his only source, though. He may have been observing this facility before joining the Emperor, but doesn't seem to have agents of his own on the ground."

"Good to know. I suppose _you_ have agents on the ground." The one in black crossed his arms.

He was insolent, but Kaela didn't have the time to worry about manners. Every minute was precious currency slipping away. So she gestured to the corpses around her. "I did." His eyes widened, but she didn't have time to waste with that, either. "Our intel is rather... rudimentary. We weren't given time to establish proper infiltration, so we've been limited to stealth and observation."

"You really don't seem to have thought this through too well," the girl commented.

 _What an understatement_. "Know this. The Emperor's blindness is your greatest threat and your greatest advantage. He is ruthless and unstable, and he will not stop until you, your world, and your Alliance are all ash." She shifted with a slight hiss, feeling the chill starting to set in. "But that single-mindedness is also his downfall. The only thing stopping him from simply unleashing his entire fleet on this planet is his admiral's reminding him he'll need something left to take Earth." As the memories came back her eyes flared fiercely. "He couldn't hold this world if he took it, never mind Earth, not with the kind of losses he invites with his tactics... and finds acceptable. When I tried to warn him he was rushing the invasion, I nearly lost my position for my audacity."

"Are we supposed to feel sorry for you not convincing him to attack us more competently?"

The dark-skinned human immediately elbowed his lighter companion. "Daniel!"

"What?"

Shooting the one called Daniel a derisive look, Kaela shifted again. _Stay alert. A little longer_... "I don't need or want your pity, human. I want the Emperor removed before he destroys my people—and yours, I suppose."

"What does that gain us?" the cat creature asked. "You said Kargil's his own worst enemy. What do you expect us to do? Remove him so someone more effective can replace him?"

Well, yes, that was the ideal. But even if not... what could the noble Voltron Force understand of her reasons? "My motives no longer matter. Use my words as you will." She fell silent, coughing, a bit of blood bubbling up. _Time is up. They have to survive this_. "There is a battalion of infantry waiting," another cough, "ready to ambush you if you leave this cave alive." Which could bring them to Serek; hopefully he had the sense not to be leading the charge. Hopefully he knew as well as she did that _his_ life couldn't be wasted. "One armored company was also deployed, but the tanks couldn't reach this cave."

The female's eyes narrowed slightly. "All that for us?"

"We were warned of your weapons." Now her voice was beginning to fade. "Fight well, Voltron Force. If Kargil succeeds here," cough, "he will go straight for Earth. Millions of your people... will die needlessly... and he will drain the Empire," cough, "until there is... nothing left..." The poison had reached her lungs, she could feel it there, squeezing like a vise. "What you've seen... here... is only..."

"Stop. That's enough." The cat beast nodded to her. "Thank you, Kaela. We will not waste your knowledge. You should rest now."

Rest? There was no rest. Not for her, not for any of them. But a haze was beginning to fall over her mind.

 _All that I do... I do for the Empire... may it... be..._

Darkness fell.


	10. Perspectives (2)

Reawakening  
Chapter 8: Perspectives (2)

* * *

Well that had been... something, anyway. Yes, Vince decided as he looked at the fallen Drule. Definitely something.

"...So, uh." Daniel was staring at the spy too, looking like he desperately didn't want to show how shaken he was. It wasn't especially convincing. "Do we believe her, you suppose?"

"It all makes too much sense not to," Vince said reluctantly. Every word of it had been backed up by those same oddities they'd observed, answered those questions they'd been asking. "And it doesn't change a lot, does it? We know what we're up against now, that's all."

"Yeah." The other pilot looked towards the mouth of the cave, from here nothing but a faint glow around the corner. "Suppose she was also telling the truth about the ambush?"

Imam stepped forward to kneel beside the body. "Most likely. What cause would she have to lie about that? Putting us on false alert would be a childish prank, not a military strategy." He looked back at Kaela and murmured something under his breath; Vince doubted it had anything to do with the issue at hand. _Ghostwalker stuff._

"I can go have a look around," Bruno offered.

Daniel nodded. "Go ahead." The Ailurian immediately headed up the path, his gauntlets still active as he disappeared around the corner. "...If she was right, we might get your wish after all, huh Larmina?"

"May just." She hesitated and flipped her staff in her hands. "You guys okay with it? I mean that was kind of... up close and personal." She gestured to the other corpses.

Great. Vince had been trying not to think about that. And _he_ hadn't even hit anyone.

Imam stood and shrugged, and Daniel looked at the bodies and winced. "Like you said... they aren't playing. It's us or them. I'm not gonna enjoy it, but I'm not gonna cry about it either."

Vince would have been more than happy to let that speak for all of them, but Larmina's blue eyes fixed directly on him. And to his surprise he was pretty sure they held a note of genuine concern. "Vince? You going to be good? You can hang back if you need to."

 _...Hey!_ Though she obviously meant well, he felt heat rushing to his cheeks at the implication. _I'm the weakest link here, aren't I?_ But was there really any shame in that? Someone had to be the worst of them... and suddenly he realized. Someone _did_ have to be the worst of them, and in the air Larmina was it. And just as they protected her in the sky, she meant to protect them on the ground.

Still. He had told Red Lion he wanted to be strong, hadn't he? He couldn't just stand back and let the others do the fighting. Like Lance would, like he had to, he would carry his weight. "I'll be okay, if it comes to that. I think."

Daniel smiled. "Course you will. We're the Voltron Force."

After another minute Bruno returned, tail swishing in a way that somehow came across as nervous. "They're out there. Many. And they have guns."

"...Of course they do." That was going to make this more complicated. _Probably shouldn't say I told them so. But I totally told them so._ "I'm sure I'll regret this, but what's many, exactly?" Kaela had said a battalion, but that didn't really help. He wasn't sure what Drule unit organization was like.

"Several hundred. My best guess."

Several _hundred?_ "You're not serious."

"I am. Unfortunately."

Even Larmina had paled a little bit at that. "That's a lot of Drules."

"Too many," Vince agreed, looking up the path for a moment and half expecting to see troops start pouring in. "I like a certain number of Drules around, and that number is _one_." He indicated Imam, whose eyes glowed briefly. "So what do we do now? We can't take them all on."

"...Says who?" And there was Mean Mina getting her groove back. "We've got armor. Guess we're about to find out how well it works."

"We should wait until nightfall," Bruno suggested. "Darkness probably won't prevent them from detecting us. But it could negate their range advantage."

"You realize our weapons glow," Vince pointed out, getting a shrug in response.

Daniel looked around at them, frowned, and shook his head. "I think he's right. We should wait. Once it's dark we charge out fast and get the jump on them." He dropped to the ground and sprawled out. "So that means we've got a couple hours. Anyone bring firewood and marshmallows?"

"...Sir, I do not think a fire would be wise. The moss is very dry here." As Daniel groaned and pressed a palm to his forehead, Imam leaned back against the cave wall. "Will the Commander not worry if we are gone so long?"

"Knowing him? Probably not," Larmina snorted.

Vince wasn't sure how he felt about her response. Lance was very, well, Lance... but he was pretty sure the boss liked them. At least a little. "He'll worry. But it seems like he's starting to trust us a little bit too, and he knows this was a dicey mission."

"Dicey." She rolled her eyes but nodded, leaning on her staff. "Well then, I guess we have to keep ourselves occupied in the meantime. In... an empty cave." Grin. "Anyone want to do some sparring practice?"

Everyone exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison, and Larmina sighed and banished her staff.

Bruno seemed to decide a change of subject was in order. "Imam. You flinched when she told us the collaborator's name. Zeliax." He sat on a rock and looked at the resident Drule. "That's significant?"

"Meaningful, perhaps. Zeliax is the name of a god, once one of the Lords of Battle. He was the god of righteous fury." Imam's eyes dimmed briefly. "He was cast from the Six Houses; some say corrupted, some say betrayed. Now he styles himself the Lord of Wrath, and stands alone, consumed by that which he once ruled."

"Sounds like a pleasant fellow," Vince deadpanned.

"He is not considered evil, but he is quite feared." Shrug. "We should not try to draw conclusions from it, I think. What is important is that we know now what the Imperials know."

"Yeah." Larmina kicked a few pebbles absently. "They know our weaknesses, they just don't have the power to take advantage of them. That's real encouraging. That part of Voltron's power we're supposed to be looking for could've at least left some clues or something. Maybe a map."

"Shame the lions can't tell us," Vince sighed. But as he said it he felt a vague flicker in the back of his mind, and it occurred to him he'd never actually tried to ask.

... _Uh, we_ can't _just ask you, can we Red?_ Surely Lance would've thought of that a long time ago. Heck, the prior Force would've done it before sealing the lions away.

Immediately Red Lion returned a sensation, and he felt his mind all but yanked out of his body.

 _Oh here we go again!_

The vision was quick this time, so quick he could barely make sense of it. He could see the Nexus in front of him, dimmed and disabled, he could feel pain and exhaustion from every limb. Was he feeling the lions, Voltron? Had they been so badly damaged? An instant later, the crystalline structure pulsed to life. A terrible flare of rage engulfed the Nexus in white light, and the vision faded away.

"Vince!"

"Magic Man, dude..."

Opening his eyes he saw Imam and Daniel looking down at him, worried. Wait, looking _down?_ He blinked and registered a dull ache in the back of his head and shoulders, and several sharp rocks poking his back. Apparently visions while standing were a dangerous proposition. "Oh, uh. Hi guys..." He sat up, wincing. "Wish Big Red would warn me about those."

Imam looked intrigued. "Did you learn anything?"

"I'm not sure. I think he just showed me the blast that weakened them on Galra..." He hunched over, trying to make sense of it. "Didn't tell me much, except that... it reacted somehow with the Nexus, I guess." An actual reaction seemed like a very bad thing. Surely the power drain couldn't be permanent? There had to be something they could do. Arus, and apparently a lot more than Arus, was counting on them.

"Also helpful," Larmina grumbled.

"I don't know what you're all so worried about. We're doing fine." Daniel threw his hands behind his head and leaned back. "Voltron is fine. We've just got to, you know, get back to it." He looked towards the cave mouth, then around at his teammates. "...So while we're waiting for dark, you guys want to play a game?"

 _A game?_

Oh _this_ ought to be good.

* * *

Human games were really quite bizarre.

Daniel called this exercise "existential rock paper scissors." Imam had some understanding of existentialism as humans taught it; he'd taken a few philosophy electives before being transferred into the Panthera Squadron. But this game didn't seem to have much to do with that. Nor did it seem to even remotely relate to rock, paper, or scissors.

It was fairly entertaining, though.

"Kung fu!" Larmina cried out in frustration. She'd mocked the idea of this earlier, but was certainly taking it seriously now that they were into it. The competitive spirit was strong with her, after all.

"Isn't that a little extreme to trump a fluffy puppy?" Vince asked with a bit of concern. She glowered at him and he quickly reconsidered. "Uh, okay then, um... ancient Earth cinematography."

Her glare turned into a look of pure confusion, mirrored by everyone else in the cave. "How... how exactly does that beat kung fu?"

"Are you kidding me? They beat the _hell_ out of it."

Well, Imam couldn't actually argue his point, if only because he wasn't even completely sure what that point was. Nobody else seemed to have the confidence to object to it either. Finally Bruno shrugged. "I'll accept that challenge. In fact I believe we've just illustrated the answer. Time."

Vince stared at him, then grinned and gave a thumbs-up. "Nice flip."

That brought it to Imam, and he grimaced. It had taken him some time to adjust to the humorous nature of the game; his initial inclination to answer with the Lords of the Dead was probably not appropriate. But what but the gods could be more powerful than time? All succumbed to the inevitable passing of moments... though some things could certainly skew one's perception of such... his eyes widened as inspiration struck. "Captain Morton's lectures."

The entire group burst into laughter.

"Well," Daniel grinned as he recovered, "I don't see any Captain Morton around here now, so I think the obvious answer here is Voltron!"

Larmina nodded, then seemed to realize it was her turn to try to beat that. "...Hey! That's not fair!"

"Fair? I didn't think you cared about fair."

"Not in fighting! This is an _actual game_..." She gave him an irritated scowl, then paused and looked around. "Hey, speaking of which, I think it's dark enough to get out of here now."

 _Oh_. She was right—unnoticed by the Force, lighting their small area of the cave with their voltcoms, everything else had gone quite dark indeed. "They will no doubt be scanning for us, even if they cannot see normally. We must assume we will still have to fight."

"Yeah." Daniel stood and pressed a button on his voltcom, and a wave of electricity replaced his uniform with sleek black armor. The others followed suit. It was an odd sensation; the generated armor felt skin tight but perfectly flexible, and the helmet barely even obscured his vision. After a moment the armor seemed to detect the environment around it, washing out the darkness in ethereal shades of night vision green. "Oh, _cool_."

"Let's hope this blocks lasers as well as it does other stuff," Vince agreed. "So what's the plan?"

"We only have one advantage, they don't know when we'll be coming out. We can't afford to waste the initiative even trying to sneak past. Let's just charge and try to break through before they know what hit them."

A few raised eyebrows greeted the suggestion, though Imam for one actually couldn't fault the logic. Letting the Imperials get the first shot could be suicidal. "I think that sounds reasonable."

"Charge in like idiots, huh?" Larmina nodded. "Guess that has its place after all. Let's do this."

Vince nodded reluctantly, apparently also unable to come up with a reasoned objection. Bruno extended his claws. Time to go.

...Oh yes, there were a _lot_ of them out there.

"That way," Vince whispered as they crouched behind a rock at the mouth of the cave. "That's the path we came up. All those twists and turns, maybe we'll get lucky and lose them."

"Okay." Daniel drew an audible breath. "Three, two, one... NOW!"

They charged.

It went shockingly well, for about the first thirty seconds. The Imperial troops opened fire as they raced out, but had clearly been expecting a more cautious exit; quite a few of the shots went behind the Force, scorching rocks and grass. More than a few did hit their mark though. Imam hissed as a few stinging bolts struck his armor, called his wraith scythe, and flung it with all his might. Several of the soldiers saw the glowing blade and ducked before it struck one and shredded their throat, and as it returned he simply caught it and kept running. The others were lashing out with their weapons too as they barreled through the Imperial line, and it all seemed to be going well...

Until something loomed up in front of them at the narrowest part of the pass, and a concussive force blew all five of them back.

"What the?"

"Oh, _damn_..."

Apparently, while they'd been waiting for the cover of darkness, the Imperials had been getting their battle tanks up into the pass.

Larmina jumped up and sprinted at the huge vehicle anyway, slamming the end of her staff in between two armor plates. The seam buckled and dented but nothing more. "Oh, uh..."

For once, Daniel didn't sound the least bit confident. "There's no space to get around this thing! Back to the cave!" Whirling around, they scattered before the tank's second barrage, and found the soldiers they'd charged through had regrouped to bar their way.

Well. Now they might just be in trouble.

* * *

Lance had spent the last three hours fighting with the holotank. Or more to the point, fighting with one of Arus' observation satellites, once he'd figured out how to control it. Sensors had picked up a warship moving in on the Atreus Mountains not long after he'd lost contact with the cadets. They hadn't picked up a robeast, but that was really the only good news he could scrounge out of it; he hadn't heard from the kids since. It had been too long. Sensors weren't good enough, he needed to _see_ what the hell was going on down there.

The one thing he was certain of was that they weren't dead... or at least, Vince wasn't dead. He would know. _Red_ would know.

Finally getting the satellite into position, he zeroed in on the coordinates from the supposed defector. In the ghostly shades of the false light imagery, the mountain pass that came up appeared to be crawling with a swarm of tiny dots. _Uh oh_. He zoomed in until he could make out what he was already sure he was seeing: a massive Drule force, complete with a dozen damn _tanks_ , bearing down on five colorful sparks.

Well, all five of the kids were still moving. That was something, right?

 _Damn it!_

He could see the lay of the battle from here; there were gaps in the coverage, gaps that wouldn't be so obvious from the ground. Actually he had no idea what the team was trying to do. Larmina and Bruno were leading the charge, flanked by Daniel and Vince; every so often a golden blur that he assumed was Imam's boomerang arced out from behind them. Decent tactics, except they were heading back into the center of the ambush. Trying to take in everything at once, he couldn't make sense of the move.

Most importantly, he couldn't contact them. He couldn't do anything but watch.

 _Unless_...

That wasn't right. There was something he could do. The keys were sitting next to him on the console; the team hadn't taken them out, for obvious reasons. They were right there, shining in the control room's harsh lights. Almost beckoning him. Or maybe just saying _hey dumbass, the answer's right in front of your face!_

Lance took a deep breath. He was going to regret this. It was just going to remind him of everything he'd lost, everything he could no longer be. It was going to make the usual misery of not flying burn a thousand times more fiercely.

 _...No._

He was still the Red Lion. He would always be the Red Lion. Nothing would ever change that, no matter how long it had been. And nobody, least of all Lance McClain, just forgot how to fly.

"Let's do this," he whispered to the consoles, then stood and ran for Red's chute.

* * *

The Voltron Force really _was_ made up of children. Clever children, but children nonetheless. Serek could hardly believe it when they charged from their cover and fell upon his forces. Even from this distance they looked so _young_. But it clearly didn't make them any less dangerous, especially when his own sniper rifle's shots failed to pierce the red one's armor. And their tactics had been good, taking them nearly all the way through his lines while surprise was still on their side.

Fortunately the prince was no stranger to tactics himself. He could see what they were doing as they fled the tank they'd run into, trying to fall back into the shelter of the cave. Close quarters combat would favor them. They could create a bottleneck and cut his troops down piecemeal; it was the same reason he hadn't gone in after them to begin with. But did they realize that tactic wasn't sustainable? All his people had to do was hold their ground. The Force would have to emerge eventually, or die in that cave of hunger and thirst.

Still, if they could finish this now so much the better. "Fall in on close combat footing," he ordered as the humans retreated. Firearms weren't doing a whole lot of good anyway. "Try to split them up. Don't take a shot unless you're certain of it." As he spoke he lined up another shot himself, knocking the large green one stumbling but but accomplishing little else.

Fine. He wasn't going to give an order he wouldn't take himself. Drawing his own sword, Serek slung the rifle over his back and began making his way to the front lines. Better this way anyway. His warriors were trained in hand to hand combat, but they hardly specialized in it, not the way he did. He'd trained under the finest blademasters in the Empire, one of the few orders his father had given that he'd rather enjoyed.

His father... that thought only brought back the worries he'd been dwelling on for the last two hours.

What had happened in the cave? The fact that the Force had come out meant those inside had been disabled somehow, if not worse. Probably worse, considering how long they'd waited to emerge. He knew Kaela had been in there. But his father didn't know that yet, and that was what bothered him. The spymaster deciding to take a personal hand on the matter wasn't too surprising. Her not telling the emperor her true plans was something else entirely.

 _What did you do, Kaela?_

No. He couldn't give in to distraction, not _now_. His people were succeeding; they'd cut the green one off completely from his companions, cornered the black and red ones together against the wall of the pass, and had the blue and yellow ones surrounded. Losses would be every bit as staggering as he'd been warned to expect, but there was no way out for the Force. Nothing they could do mattered...

"Prince Serek!"

He startled a bit as his comms surged; contact with the fleet had been intermittent, given the interference from the mountains. Far more surprising was _who_ was making contact. "Zeliax?"

"You're out of time. Red Lion is on its way. Get out of there."

 _What?_ He glanced around the battlefield, counting again just to be positive. "You must be mistaken, that isn't possible! All of the pilots—"

"—Do you trust me?"

...What an odd question. What an _absurd_ question. Trust that enigmatic human over what his own eyes were telling him, what he knew had to be true? Zeliax had made it clear he didn't want the pilots dead, and they were so close... would he be bold enough to commit some treachery here? He certainly didn't lack for audacity.

"We have them cornered! We can't abandon the field now."

The collaborator's voice was more vehement than he'd ever heard it. "Don't be stupid, Serek! You have five minutes to be out of that pass, or you and all your people will die!"

... _Do I trust?_

The collaborator was such a contradiction. He held his secrets so close, yet answered all other questions so openly. Oh, whatever mysteries he was hiding were significant... but when he did speak, had he ever lied? Serek looked around at his troops, knowing victory was only a matter of time. But time they might not have.

 _To die for the Empire is an honor._

 _There's no honor in empty sacrifice._

 _Father would sooner see this world burn..._

He couldn't risk it. He couldn't die here. Not for his own pride, when his people still needed him, the only one with any hope of tempering his father's recklessness. And honor or no honor, he would not flee this battle himself and leave his warriors to be slaughtered.

Looking up again, he saw that the Force had indeed fought their way back into the cave. He would tell himself it was their success that sealed his decision. But really, he'd already made it... they just offered him a convenient excuse.

"All units retreat!"

* * *

"That could've gone worse," Daniel commented lightly as they fell back into the cave.

"Yeah, how? Dying? That's not a real high bar there!" Vince rubbed his deeply bruised left arm, grimacing. "What do we do now? We can't hold out like this forever. The voltcoms only have so much charge."

Larmina's grip on her staff tightened. "We just have to find a way past that tank."

"How?" Bruno pointed out. "It won't matter even if we disable it. It would still block the way. We need to try something else. A different path maybe."

Imam had crept back to the entrance, peeking out just enough to see the layout of the battlefield. "They appear to have blocked most of the paths, if not all. Some are wider than others, but we will have at least one vehicle to fight past no matter where we go."

"Maybe we don't have to fight." Daniel turned to Vince. "Magic Man, you think you could coax that hunk of junk to move if we watch your back?"

...Huh. That was an interesting thought. "I'm not sure." He was still so unclear on his powers, their utilities and limitations. "Might depend on how heavily computerized it is. I'm sure I could hijack the weaponry but the movement systems? Fifty fifty at best."

"I don't know, hijacking the weapons sounds like a pretty good start." Fair point. "Would buy us some time to get around it, I mean, we can climb over the treads if we have to—"

"—Your pardon, my friends... but I do not think you need to argue this issue further." Still at the mouth of the cave, Imam turned back to them, eyes flickering with confusion. "The Imperial lines have broken."

... _Wait, what?_

Rushing up to join him, Vince saw the dark forms falling back. Most of them, anyway. Some of the tanks were having trouble pulling out of the narrow passes they'd blocked, and a few squads didn't appear to be following their companions. But for the most part they were retreating, or maybe fleeing was the better word.

Something darkened the sky further, blocking out the starlight. A warship was descending. "Surely they're not going to bombard their own people?"

He shook his head in response to Bruno's question. "Even a bombardment won't breach this cave, unless they've got nuclear warheads or something, and if they did I'm pretty sure we'd have seen them already. I don't think it's us they're after, look." New shadows were starting to rise out of the mountains, troop carriers pulling back to the ship as several fighters deployed to cover their escape.

"Okay, we kicked butt out there, but not _that_ much." Larmina sounded as stunned as any of them. "What the hell is going on?"

That was a really wonderful question, actually. Vince was flailing for anything they might be missing, but ultimately the answer was almost too simple. He felt it an instant before he saw it. A roar in the sky, a massive gout of flame reaching out for the warship... and Red Lion appeared over the mountains, diving for the tanks with its claws bared.

"Ummmmmm... is that...?"

Red came down on the tank that had blocked their escape, which also happened to be having the most trouble trying to get itself turned around. Not that it mattered _now_. It exploded beneath the lion's pounce, showering the pass in shrapnel and flame.

The soldiers who hadn't pulled back froze briefly, then all seemed to come to one of two decisions. Half of them ran at Red, firing their blasters as if they seriously thought that was going to accomplish anything. The other half rushed for the cave, either to take shelter themselves or to just take out their targets before the lion could get at them.

They'd have run into a wall of weaponry there, too, if they'd moved fast enough. But even as the team braced for the onslaught, Red jumped back into the air and breathed a wave of flame over the pass, incinerating the Drules in the middle of their mad dash. Then it turned to face the covering fighters bearing down on it.

It was incredible. The lion moved as gracefully as a real cat, maybe more so, looping around the fighters and slipping between shots it shouldn't possibly have dodged. As the warship attempted to offer support Red darted straight at it, spewing fire at several weapon ports, which shuddered with secondary explosions—looked like the ammunition had gone up. A few gashes clawed across its belly convinced the ship it wanted no part of that battle, and it pulled up again to let the fighters deal with with the issue alone.

Vince suddenly felt distinctly inadequate, but how could he not?

"Whoa."

"Dude..."

"And that is why he is a legend," Imam murmured, putting voice to what they all knew they were seeing.

Lance had come to save them. Damn, had he ever. And if any one of them had been harboring any lingering shreds of doubt about him, that doubt had just burned away with the Drule army.

He didn't seem inclined to pursue the retreating forces, which seemed like a good idea under the circumstances. One last tank managed to get itself reoriented and race away from the pass, and a minute later another troop carrier lifted off, fleeing into the sky as Red swatted down a few lingering fighters. The warship had seen more than enough. As soon as its remaining forces were back on board it fired a flurry of lasers, presumably just on principle, and fled for orbit.

"That's right!" Lance yelled after them, loosing another flame blast after them for good measure. "This is _my_ lawn! You bastards stay off it!" Red Lion came down in the pass, landing in some smoldering vegetation, and tilted its head at the team in the cave. "...Oh, hey there. You kids need a lift?"

Vince looked up at his lion, swallowing hard. _No pressure after that display, right?_ But then a small grin crossed his face. Okay, maybe a little bit of pressure. But this was what they were all aspiring to... _don't freak out. Just remember. Everything you just saw, and he's still letting us play on his lawn. Maybe you're proving something after all._

He joined the answering nods from the others, that grin still in place. "Let's go home."

* * *

 _Of all the disgraceful cowardice!_

Kargil hadn't been able to observe most of the battle, thanks to the damnable mountains; the last thing he'd seen was Serek and his forces splitting the children up in the pass. Victory had seemed assured. And the next thing he knew, he was hearing from the _Gargoyle_ that a full retreat had been ordered.

Halfway through slamming down on the comm panel beside his throne, to demand an explanation from his suddenly much less harmless son for his actions, the doors to the throne room opened. The now-familiar cloaked form of Zeliax stepped in and approached unannounced. That was a luxury the emperor gave to his command staff, but not to the advisor alone... but he'd been watching the battle from the bridge, and perhaps had some insight Kargil lacked. "Zeliax." He moved his hand from the comms to the hilt of his sword, glowering down at the collaborator. "I hope for your sake you have some worthwhile information."

"Indeed." He paused at a respectful distance and bowed. That wasn't a good sign. Zeliax only showed such respect if he had something to report that the emperor wouldn't like. "I came to inform you that I called for the retreat of your forces."

"You did _what?"_ That was actually even worse than if Serek had done it himself; who was this human to make such decisions? _How very convenient_... "Explain yourself!"

The scolding seemed to make no impact on the shrouded form, and that only annoyed Kargil more. As did his advisor's unrepentant tone. "They could not remain there, Emperor. One of the lions was approaching the battle."

"One of the lions? The pilots were all pinned down, fool!"

"No." Zeliax shook his head. "The current cubs were accounted for, but their leader was not. Lance McClain is rash, impulsive... and probably still the most skilled pilot this galaxy has ever seen. It should be no surprise that he would intervene."

Kargil's eyes narrowed, considering this. On one hand, it was far too convenient. On the other, he had a fair point about the human commander. McClain was a wild card, and even wilder than anticipated—human elders were supposed to hide behind their walls, not venture onto the battlefield. Interesting, though... _he speaks with such confidence now. If it was no surprise, why didn't he say so to begin with?_ Though ultimately, his reasons didn't matter; even if it had simply slipped his mind before, it didn't excuse his later actions.

"Perhaps. But Zeliax, you have failed to answer the most crucial question. If the Red Lion were approaching... so what? It would not have arrived in time to save the whelps." His expression darkened. "Perhaps you simply wished to undermine my authority, since you argued so strenuously against the mission?"

That at least drew a hesitation, though the collaborator's tone was confident when he answered. "Did I not help you set the trap when you rejected my argument? No, Emperor. My intervention was tactical. The lion may have arrived in time to save the cubs, and it may not have. But it would, without doubt, have arrived in plenty of time to slaughter your forces."

 _Ah, of course._ Kargil growled. "So you chose to counter my orders and authority, based on a fear that _perhaps_ they did not have time to complete their mission."

"That's hardly how I would describe it." Was that a bit of indignation in that usually impassive voice? "You have me here to aid with tactics, do you not? I was trying to help prevent unnecessary losses, including your _son_."

...Unnecessary losses.

Kargil was well and truly sick of hearing about unnecessary losses.

It was time to put an end to this nonsense, before this fool got the impression his claimed good intentions would save him from further poor decisions. "Let me make something clear to you, Zeliax. I tolerate your presence here, because you have information I desire. Your contribution will be rewarded. You will be an honored ally of the Drule Empire while human 'civilization' squirms beneath my heel. But this arrangement will not succeed if you let your soft-headed little ideals or whatever they are guide you. My son is a loyal soldier, and he and all my legions are the extension of _my_ will. If my will is for them to perish in the name of victory, it shall be so!"

Silence.

For a moment, Kargil thought he might have actually gotten through. Then he saw the truth. Just a flicker, a momentary glimpse of Zeliax's eyes beneath his mask. And what he saw there was not understanding. It wasn't obedience. It wasn't even the confusion of one trying and failing to grasp his lord's wisdom.

It was absolute contempt.

The flicker was gone swiftly, so swiftly a lesser man might have wondered if he'd imagined it. But Kargil knew what he'd seen. And he was suddenly reassessing what he'd said about tolerating Zeliax, even as the advisor nodded and stepped back from the throne.

"Not ideals, Emperor. Merely pragmatism. But, as you command... I will not make the same mistake again."

 _No, you certainly won't make that mistake again. Or any others._ "See to it. Dismissed!"


	11. Wrath and Chaos (1)

Reawakening  
Chapter 9: Wrath and Chaos (1)

* * *

 _So this is what a bad invasion looks like. Good thing they didn't wait to wake me up for a competent one._

Lance was sitting in his room, allegedly planning some new lessons, but he was really just brooding over the new information the team had brought back. Mostly background, ultimately. A little something more tactical would've been nice. But it was better than nothing, and gods knew they'd spent enough time working with nothing.

So. A collaborator who'd studied Voltron. That explained an awful lot. Lance kind of wished they could borrow this Zeliax; obviously he'd put more effort into things than the Alliance ever had. But no sense worrying much more about that. Just assume the Drules knew as much as they knew, and go from there.

Much more interesting was the vision Vince said he'd had...

A reaction with the Nexus? No. Lance knew what it was he'd really seen, and wondered again if he should tell the kids the full truth. But there was still no point in that, it changed very little. The issue wasn't supposed to be where the power had gone, it was why it hadn't come _back_ in three and a half centuries.

That was why the vision was so interesting. What was hidden in that moment that Red Lion needed them to see? Or had he just been trying to tell the cubs what Lance already knew? Maybe he really should...

 _No. They don't need to deal with that. Bad enough that_ we _had to deal with it._

"Damn, guys," he whispered to the empty room. No. To the ghosts he constantly carried with him, always in the back of his mind. "I wish..."

 _I wish you were here..._

That wasn't helping anything. But Lance wasn't used to feeling so damn lost. It wasn't just the ache of watching the kids fly without him. Flying Red hadn't just deepened that ache—though it had certainly done that. But more importantly, it had made him see the power drain up close and personal. In the old days he would've had that troop cruiser _down_. What happened when the Drules got more experience, and the robeasts got stronger?

 _Why the hell did I ever agree to this?_

Immediately he hated himself for asking that question. He remembered...

* * *

"You're sure about this, Lance?" Keith's eyes bored into him, two slivers of glacial ice, as cold as they always were when he didn't approve of someone's decisions. Lance was _very_ used to that look. "I'm still pretty sure I should be the one volunteering, if someone's going to go under."

"Dude, remember Wade? Teaching is kind of my wheelhouse. Besides, you've still got a lot of Commander-ing left to do here and now, never mind the whole 'you have a wife' thing." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, sweeping his gaze over the other three impatiently. "And so do _you_ , Viking Scourge, so don't even start."

"Wasn't going to. I don't really have any grounds to object, do I? I may still hold my bond to Blue, but I know I'd hardly be appropriate for the task." Sven sighed. "But it doesn't seem right to just... lock you away."

"This was your idea. Don't get all wishy-washy now."

"My idea? _My idea?_ I made an offhand suggestion—"

"—Boys, honestly." Allura shook her head and held up a hand for silence. "The fact remains that the suggestion was a good one. Good, but not imperative." She turned to face Lance, the exasperation with their usual bickering giving way to a deep concern. "You're right, Lance. If someone is going to do this, you make the most sense. But nobody _has_ to do this. When the five of you first came to Arus..."

"...We at least had you and Coran. We didn't have to go into it totally blind." He paused, trying to decide how to phrase this. It wasn't exactly that he _wanted_ to be put into stasis, to abandon everything he'd ever known for the uncertainties of the distant future. It was something much deeper than that. "I understand, you guys. This is a big thing. And there's no promises with it and it kind of scares the hell out of me. But don't you see?" With a frustrated scowl of his own he jumped up and began pacing around the conference room. "This is what the Voltron Force is now. The four of us. Three and a half if Sven wants to be modest about it."

Sven snorted. "Realistic."

"Whatever. But you're still the Sky Marshal, not to mention prince consort of Pollux. That's a pretty decent other half. You two," he gestured to Allura and Keith, "you rule Arus, which is also kind of a big deal, in case all the diplomatic functions hadn't gotten that across. Hell, they're already saying once you guys are gone they might have to split the planet into provinces or something, they don't think anyone else could handle the kind of power they've so happily given you. And Hunk and Pidge..." His voice broke slightly. "...well, they've got the whole heroic death thing going for them. But me? I dunno. Sometimes I feel like I didn't end up pulling my weight."

Immediately Keith's stern look turned into an outright glare. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, Lance, and frankly that's a title with some stiff competition."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I mean, I'd like to have contributed a little extra _beyond_ my mad piloting skills, ravishing good looks, and magnetic personality."

Even Keith's glare turned into a smirk.

Allura's amusement faded after a moment, and she looked at him sadly. "You have nothing to prove, Lance. Not to us, not to anyone on Arus or beyond. But the most important person, I can't speak for." She closed her eyes, those eyes he'd never quite gotten over, even as the more platonic love of his sister in arms overcame the old desire. "If you feel you must do this to prove something to yourself... it's your life. And we will support whatever decision you make. If this is what you have to do, your sacrifice will be honored."

Sacrifice. It sounded so noble when she said it like that, and he supposed he'd made it sound fairly noble himself. If only she knew the one selfish point he hadn't mentioned.

That last point was one he couldn't bring himself to speak. Not even here to his three closest friends, his only family—maybe _especially_ not to them. Gods knew he didn't want to leave them. But there was a restlessness that still burned. With every year that passed by, something that had always seemed like such an absurd possibility started to look more likely...

Lance had never quite been able to see himself dying peacefully in bed. Granted, nothing about going into stasis promised he wouldn't do just that in a few hundred years, but at least he'd have fought one more war first. He _had_ to do this. For the future, for Voltron... and for himself.

"I'm going under."

* * *

He opened his eyes, sighing. It wasn't that he'd ever expected this job to be glamorous. But maybe he'd hoped for something a bit less _infuriating_. The world was supposed to have changed in some manner that didn't put Voltron at every disadvantage. But then, it was when things looked the darkest that Voltron was really needed, wasn't it?

 _Us against the world, just like always. Just us against a different world now._

An alarm sounded, intruding on his thoughts, and he opened his room's own terminal before running for Control. The readings that came back were bizarre as usual... today they were picking up what looked like a robeast's energy signature, but no actual robeast.

"Alrighty then! Party time. Again."

Jumping up off the bed, he headed for the control room and his cadets. The future was a pain in the ass. But it was still _his_ future, and he was damn well going to protect it as best he could.

* * *

Unnoticed by the defenders of Arus, weaving between tiny gaps in the sensor network, a single shuttle made its way down from the Drule fleet. Sharilar had spent the entire trip to the surface glaring at the heretic as he flew. He didn't appear to have noticed her glares, which usually would only have infuriated her more. Not today. Today, though the one who styled himself Zeliax didn't yet know it, his irritation would end one way or another.

He would make a fine robeast, no doubt...

Officially, his orders were to accompany her to the surface as a guide. With Kaela and all her finest scouts dead from the botched ambush, he was their only source of reliable information on the planet. The Circle needed new source material for the next wave of robeasts.

Oh, yes, they would find it... he wanted Voltron, and only Voltron, destroyed so badly? Then let him finally back up his arrogance, or die trying.

Zeliax did hold a certain power within, Sharilar was well aware of that. She could sense it when forced to be near him, a buried energy that was difficult to place. It would surely help after his transformation. But did he know how to use it now? The Witch-Primus doubted it. Where would a human learn the intricacies of the occult?

Besides, if he were actually dangerous, he'd surely have offered something more to the Emperor than just talk.

As it turned out he did know how to fly a shuttle at least; it came to ground on a cliff with barely a lurch. Smoothest landing she'd ever been through. Nodding in grudging appreciation, she still scowled at him as he shut down the engines and stood. "Let's get this over with."

"By all means." He inclined his head in a slight, mocking bow. "After you, Witch-Primus."

"Hmph." She stepped out onto the soft grass of Arus, taking it in for a moment. It was her first trip to the surface... yes, this was a beautiful world, lush and green and filled with life. Much of that life was far less objectionable than human scum, even.

 _This world shall be consecrated to the Lords of the Wild, a gift in the name of the Empire. And its bounty will fuel the conquest of its fellows, until all human space is under our control..._ the thought brought a genuine smile to her face _. The right of the victors._

"We will set up camp here. I need some time to secure the area; kindly refrain from bothering me while I work."

"I wouldn't dream of bothering you, beyond the fact that my breathing usually does so."

 _Such disrespect_... she glowered. "Make yourself useful in the meantime. Keep the watch."

"Of course." He turned away, a slight wind ruffling his cloak. "Though I'm surprised you'd deign to let me warn you of anything. Aren't you perfectly skilled on your own?"

"I acknowledge you have some uses, however menial." _May all the Six Houses damn you to the highest hell_.

"Get to it, then."

For a few seconds she simply watched him, letting a cold smile take hold on her face. Savoring the moment. Then she called out to the powers the Circle had amassed aboard the _Hellbringer_ , the powers just waiting for her to summon and use. Everything was in place. Whispering an incantation and a prayer to the Lords of Order, a plea to twist the nature of reality itself, she drew upon that power and cast it at the heretic's back.

In a typical robeast transformation, the effect would be immediate. And painful. She watched eagerly, wanting to hear him scream in terror and agony... but something was wrong. He wasn't falling to the ground and writhing as the power consumed him. In fact he was barely reacting at all.

Then he turned, silver lightning flaring in his eyes. "Are you sure that's wise, Witch-Primus?"

 _What?!_

No. She'd done something wrong, that was all. In her eagerness perhaps she'd jumped a little too quickly. Fine. Snarling the incantation again, she flung another burst of power. "Be silent and fall to your fate, heretic!"

Still nothing. Just that glow in his eyes as he turned to face her fully, and Sharilar couldn't help but take a step back from the icy rage that was suddenly radiating from him. _That power_... it was surging, intense and immediate, far greater than she'd anticipated. And it seemed he had some idea what to do with it after all.

A flash of energy gathered in his hand, coalescing into a crackling ball of lightning. "You could've just said yes. Does the Emperor know you're trying to get one of his valued tools killed?"

Scowling, she called a shield. He might be a more powerful foe than expected, but he was still a mere human. "No longer valued, heretic. The Emperor has seen sense, and has no use for your insolence any longer. You have overstepped your bounds!"

"...Have I, now?" He laughed, cold and mocking. "I believe he's overstepped _his_." Eyes flaring, he reached out, and the lightning lanced straight at her like a spear.

 _How dare he?_

Her shield blocked the blast, though its force drove her back a few paces. This was not how things were supposed to develop at all, and Sharilar did not like having her plans derailed... never mind the robeast spell. He'd spoken such treason against the Emperor, he could simply die here in disgrace. _No more talk_. Actions would speak. Gathering herself she retaliated with a bolt of chaotic energy, one that would vaporize him where he stood.

For all the power she'd poured into the attack, the heretic didn't even try to avoid it. He just stood there, watching, eyes aglow. And the bolt dissipated around him like a gentle breeze.

 _How... how is this possible?_

"I don't think we'll end this that way." He stepped forward, drawing a dark knife from beneath his cloak. "So all other things being equal..."

Snarl. "You are not my equal, blasphemer!"

"True. I'm not. But I was trying to be generous." With his free hand he cast a fireball at her, and she just barely got a new shield up in time to block it. "I didn't want this to be necessary, but..."

A roar in the sky cut him off.

 _Oh, surely not_. Whirling around, she saw the one thing that could possibly make this more of a disaster: those damnable lions were approaching. Fast. Sharilar hissed a few curses under her breath as she realized what had to happen. She was no fool, and the greater threat here was clear... even her magics couldn't stand alone against Voltron. "On the subject of distasteful necessities, I think we may have to postpone—"

What cut _her_ off was an impact to her back, a burst of wind that nearly threw her off the cliff. "They're not going to save you, and neither am I."

"Are you insane?" What could he possibly hope to accomplish like this? Against her and Voltron at once? "Do you think they'll spare _you?"_

Suddenly a jolt ran through the lions—she could see it, a physical shudder that nearly dropped them from the sky. Convenient, as it seemed to make them think twice about interfering. But also a bit worrisome. She hadn't done anything yet.

Zeliax couldn't possibly have such power...

Oddly, from his reaction she got the impression he might not have done anything either. He recoiled from the lions' arrival, the energy in his eyes dimming. But he was as arrogant as ever when he spoke. "Are you frightened of Voltron, Witch-Primus? Perhaps this is something you should've thought of _before_ you turned on me." Another bolt of lightning sprang forth as the lions settled on the ground. "Too late to change your mind now!"

He _was_ insane. Fine, then. She would end him here... and see what unfolded with Voltron. Though the pilots were dismounting now, as if whatever had struck their lions had shaken their confidence in the craft. That could change everything.

 _Yes, Voltron Force. Abandon the robot. Come running to your deaths!_

"This was a private matter," she snapped as they charged, tossing a chaos bolt at the one in black as he led his companions. "You'll pay for your interference!"

"Oh, shut up," he snorted, dropping into a roll beneath the spell.

Next to him, the one in blue sprang into the air, a glowing staff appearing in her hands. "What he said! In case you hadn't noticed this is our planet, and we'll interfere as much as we damn well please!"

 _Such vulgarity_. Who was this human child to speak of damnation? Sharilar cast a wave of force at the girl, knocking her from the air, then shot another energy burst at the huge beast in green. Next to him, the one in red froze for a moment. As the green one darted aside the red one's eyes washed out in white light, a weapon appearing in his hands. Some sort of spiked mace? The move made little sense to her. But the next moment, tendrils of that same light shot from his fingers, working their way up the mace's handle and extending whiplike from its spikes. _What the?_ He swung the weapon at the burst of power she'd fired...

And knocked it _back_ at her.

Sharilar had no time to react. The glowing bolt slammed into her chest, and though her own power would do her little harm, whatever he'd done to it was another story. A wave of distortion rippled around her, disrupting her carefully prepared energies, and as she attempted to retaliate nothing but a slight flicker came from her fingers.

Reflexively in the moment of panic she called a new shield. That worked. Her powers weren't fully disrupted, but without being able to project them her ability to attack was crippled.

 _Damn it all!_

With Zeliax on one side and the Force on the other, her options were closing as tightly as the noose around her neck. Sharilar had many skills, but physical combat was a barbaric realm best left to others. Robbed of her offensive spells there was little left in her arsenal. But this was a chance for such glory! To destroy the children and the heretic in the same blow... she couldn't just pass it up, but how...?

Her eyes widened, blazing with realization. There was a way.

"Do you think you can bring me down so easily? The brightest star of the Occult Colleges, the Witch-Primus of the Drule Empire? Arrogance!" Judging Zeliax to be the safer option she whirled and charged past him, startling him enough that he didn't even try to stop her. "The Lords of the Dead will have you!"

Dropping to her knees, she closed her eyes and focused. _Sarga be with me, hear my plea! Open the gates! Let the maw of Chaos consume my foes!_ Projecting all her power outwards she released a spell even she had never used before, a spell that none had mastered since the mighty Haggar herself. But the sky shook around her, and as she opened her eyes a gaping vortex opened up in the earth. Too quickly for any of them to react, tendrils of shadow erupted from it, snaring Zeliax and the Force in an inescapable web.

Perfect.

"Goodbye, heretic," she mocked as the vortex drew them in, watching Zeliax failing to break his bonds. "I hope you suffer dearly."

She was pretty sure he snarled a response, but it was lost in a wave of pain that erupted in her chest at the same moment. _What?!_ Stumbling back she saw the source, three small glowing blades that had pierced just to the side of her heart. Those glowing talons the Black Lion pilot bore... damn them all anyway!

 _Lords of Order, grant me strength for one more plea..._

It took everything she had left, but as the chaos portal claimed its prey, Sharilar wrenched herself free of the material plane and faded out of existence, reappearing an instant later in the medical bay of the _Hellbringer_. No sense teleporting anywhere but where she needed to be, after all. Collapsing to the floor in front of several shocked healers, she let unconsciousness claim her, but not before forcing out a whisper to the doctor who knelt at her side.

"Tell the Emperor... unleash the fleet... the children and the heretic are gone..."

Through the pain and the darkness a smile settled on her lips. Her mission was complete.

* * *

The whole world seemed to have turned inside-out. Daniel flailed in a tunnel of pulsing darkness, watching chunks of grass and rock tumble along beside him, until suddenly... it all just stopped. There was no jolt or anything to signal it; he was just suddenly sitting motionless on the ground, a surreal landscape twisting around him.

 _What the hell?_

Hell wasn't so far off, maybe... he stood on shaky legs, looking around. The sky was a swirling mix of red and green, the hard ground cast in muddy shades of brown from the clashing light. There was no wind, but dark shapes were waving in the distance, spindly tendrils rising up like trees. There was still some dirt and grass scattered at his feet, presumably dragged in with him, but beyond that...

The others?

"Nnngh..." As if in response to his question he heard Vince's moan from behind him, and turned just in time to see Bruno simply appear by his side. "...Whoa, man... I don't remember signing on for a vacation to Creepyville."

"Me either." That was Larmina's voice. "What just happened?"

"I believe we came out on the wrong side of a battle with the Empire's leading witch." Imam was looking around the place with what looked like pure terror.

Daniel wasn't so sure he would call this the wrong side. They were still breathing, after all. "Okay, so she hit us with something. But I got her," he grinned, waving his talons. "I got that witch real good. We might be lost, but she'll be dead, so I think we actually got the better of the deal."

"That might be a bit premature."

The voice came from behind them, and the five pilots whirled, coming face to face with a slim form in black armor. He wore a hooded cloak, a mask covering the top half of his face while the bottom was simply shrouded in shadow... he was the one who'd been fighting the witch when they arrived.

"Who are you?" Vince was the first to voice the question, though every one of the Force had a good idea—or at least, Daniel was pretty sure he couldn't be the only one putting it together.

He studied them for a few moments, then nodded. "I am called Zeliax."

At those words, the five of them dropped back defensively, weapons bared. This was the collaborator Kaela had told them about, the traitor who'd given Voltron's secrets to the Drules... why he'd been fighting the witch was anyone's guess. It didn't matter. Here was one more enemy they could take out, maybe the one who deserved it most of all.

The weapons aimed at him didn't seem to concern him in the least. "Oh, please. Put those away. Actually, no, keep them out. You'll need them here, if we intend to escape."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, but who said 'we' are going to do anything? Except maybe that _we_ are going to leave _your_ body here to rot. If things can even rot in this hellhole."

"Hmm. I have no doubt you mean every word of that, black cub..." The cloaked figure crossed his arms. "Let's grant that you can kill me, it would be terribly inconvenient if I have to prove otherwise. How do you expect to leave, exactly? You don't know how to get out. You don't even know where you are."

Daniel started to snarl something extremely impolite. Actually he'd been starting to ever since being called 'black cub', but Bruno had slapped a huge paw over his mouth—and most of his face, for that matter. Now Vince elbowed him too.

"He's got a point, Daniel."

"I don't care what his point is. We don't need him!"

A very low voice broke in; Imam sounded even more stilted than usual. "Begging your pardon, sir. But we do need him. We are in the Chaos Realm."

"How would y... interesting." Zeliax cocked his head. "You're a Ghostwalker, then... and yet you fly a lion? Shouldn't that bother you?"

Imam's golden eyes glowed briefly. "I humbly submit, fiend, that we require only cooperation. I will tell you nothing more."

"You've told me plenty." Zeliax stepped back. "In any case, the yellow cub is correct. This is the Chaos Realm, and if any of you want to see daylight again, you're just going to have to tolerate me. Order is the enemy of chaos. The only way we can leave here is the same way we came in—all six of us, together." A low laugh. "Unless, of course, you'd like to nobly remain here for eternity in order to end my threat."

The five pilots exchanged uneasy glances. Maybe someone should have snapped that they would gladly make the sacrifice, Daniel mused... but it wasn't going to be _him_. And nobody else was exactly jumping at the opportunity.

"Wouldn't be worth it," Bruno muttered finally. "He's not our real problem. Kargil's still got Arus in his sights either way. If we stay here Arus has no Voltron. We deal."

"Indeed." Imam paused. "And I hesitate to ask this, yet I trust you have already thought of the possibility. Fiend, should _you_ not be the one remaining here as a sacrifice to end _our_ interference?"

Zeliax gave a short, derisive laugh. "Kargil's minion threw me in here just as unwillingly as the lot of you. I'm not feeling the need to do him any favors."

"...Can't fault that logic," Vince admitted.

"Okay." Daniel turned to address Imam; he still wasn't going to speak to the other jerk if he could possibly help it. "What is the Chaos Realm, exactly?"

"It is a domain sacred to Sarga, Goddess of Chaos. She is one of the Lords of Order." He noticed the confused looks immediately and shrugged. "As the fiend said, order is the enemy of chaos, but one cannot exist without the other. Banishment to the Chaos Realm was once a common punishment for criminals, but knowledge of it was lost when occult science was purged from the Empire. In the Protectorate it is little but a story used to frighten disobedient children... effectively, I might add." He shuddered and looked out over the twisted landscape.

"And this creep is right about us having to all escape together?"

Nod. "Legend says the Chaos Realm has only been escaped twice, both times by those strong enough not to be separated by its dangers."

"What sort of dangers, exactly?"

"That is difficult to say, sir." The Ghostwalker's eyes dimmed. "My people do not speak of such things."

 _Hmph_. Apparently they _were_ going to have to talk to the other jerk after all... with a bit of a scowl, Daniel turned towards Zeliax. "Well?"

"How should I know?" the cloaked man retorted irritably. "I've been here as many times as you." But he swiftly became more serious, clenching his fists and turning away. "...If the legends are to be believed, we may face the twisted remnants of everyone ever banished to this place. Don't hesitate to kill them, cubs. It will be a mercy." His voice was surprisingly pained.

"Getting used to killing Drules," Larmina muttered.

That was the truth. "Okay. So stick together, expect crazy Drule ghosts, shoot to kill." Nothing seemed to be stirring around them yet, anyway, so that was probably a good sign. "And where's the exit?"

Imam and Zeliax exchanged looks. "...We will know that when we reach it, I believe, sir."

Oh. Well that was just great.

* * *

What the hell had gone wrong this time?

One minute, the cadets had been swooping in on the odd energy signature, claiming the only thing there was two people—one a Drule—locked in combat. The next something had happened to the lions, a brief system disruption. Probably something the Drule witch had done, probably something she couldn't have accomplished if it weren't for the damn power drain. The kids had landed, unwilling to let what looked like a great opportunity pass by.

And then they were... gone.

There was no other way to describe it. It wasn't just that they'd vanished from the cliff where they were fighting, though they had done that. It was the complete disappearance of their voltcom signatures, even though there should be no interference in that area. And most of all it was the sense of deep confusion flowing to him from Red Lion.

Lance looked at the monitors and shook his head in frustration. "What did they get themselves into now?" He couldn't save them this time, that much at least was certain. Not without even knowing where they were, and not with the lions out there in the middle of nowhere.

And then suddenly he had much bigger problems. Alarms shrieked from the main console, and the holotank lit up; the Drule fleet was descending on Arus.

"...Well shit."

It didn't look like they were moving in on the lions, at least. That was good. They were moving in on the castle instead. That was bad.

 _Okay. Time to see how well this Flexplate stuff actually works. Don't let me down, future!_

Bringing up a new console, he activated the automated defenses and switched the castle's own systems to manual control. He had no idea how effective the systems were, but they had to be better than nothing. Hopefully. "You Drules came to dance again already? Fine, guess you need lesson number two. Let's do it."

 _And here you wanted one more war._

* * *

Vince trailed slightly behind the rest of the Force and their unsettling ally as they walked through the shifting landscape. His mind was elsewhere.

What had happened out there with the witch?

He had his morningstar out, obviously, ready for whatever might come at them from the Chaos Realm's shadows. It was back to normal now, glowing crimson in his hands. Almost innocent. Could a weapon even be innocent? If it could be the morningstar was, its calm glow seeming to assure him that it was just an ordinary spiked mace and he had certainly seen nothing unusual about it. But he knew what he'd seen, and what he'd felt.

Whatever it had done had been effective, anyway. Every so often, he'd just really like to know what his powers were going to do _before_ they did it.

"This place is freaky." Larmina's voice broke the uncomfortable silence, probably just for the sake of breaking it.

"It's repulsive," Bruno growled. "Life has no place here."

"Be careful what you wish for, green cub. Death is lurking."

Daniel shot Zeliax a disgusted look. "We have names, you know."

"And if I cared, I would've asked them."

Scowl. "What the hell is your deal, dude? Why would you want to work with Drules?" He paused and looked at Imam. "...The bad Drules, I mean."

"Sir, I keep telling you, you need not..." The Ghostwalker trailed off, apparently deciding it wasn't worth the protest. "...His question is valid, fiend. Why would you turn on your own people, in favor of the Empire's cruelty? Do you fear them? With the knowledge we are told you have, we could—"

"Don't insult me," the cloaked man snapped. "My motives are none of your business, and you won't change them."

 _There we go_. Vince had been waiting for something like that, considering... "Here I was just thinking I expected a god of wrath to be a bit angrier."

Zeliax turned to him; he caught a glimpse of the eyes beneath the hood, and staggered back a step at the sheer malice there. _Okay then! Definitely angry!_ Their gazes only met for a split second before the dark form shrugged and turned away again. "That's because I have nothing against the five of you. Don't make me reconsider."

 _...Now_ that's _just plain weird._

"Oh sure," Larmina scoffed. "You're just helping Kargil try to kill us. Nothing personal."

"Actually I saved your lives not long ago, to the Emperor's great annoyance. But by all means—"

The ground collapsed.

 _Oh crap!_

Beneath most of them the earth vanished in a wave of shadow, dropping them high over what looked like a roiling black ocean. Daniel had been leading the group, and was just ahead of the sinkhole; he whirled and lunged, managing to grab Imam's hand as the rest of them failed to escape the dizzying fall. "Guys!"

"Jump!" Zeliax yelled, his tone suddenly urgent.

Daniel didn't look the least bit inclined to do that, but Imam didn't hesitate. He kicked at the broken ground and yanked his well-intentioned rescuer through the hole an instant before it closed.

Vince hit the ground with a yelp, the ocean turning out to be an expanse of obsidian sand. "Owwwwwww..."

"This place sucks," Larmina muttered, sitting up and rubbing her head.

Imam and Daniel hit last, the Ghostwalker helping him up a bit sheepishly. "My apologies, sir, but there was no time to make a proper argument on the subject. You _did_ need to jump." He looked around at the others. "No matter what happens or how frightening it seems, staying together must be our first priority. All else we can recover from. But being lost in the Chaos Realm..." A violent shudder ran through him.

"...Okay." Daniel nodded. "I'll take _your_ word for it."

"Staying together is one thing." Bruno suddenly sounded very nervous himself. "I think we're about to have bigger problems."

Turning, the group saw something rising up out of the sand. Something huge and twisted, a golem built of what looked like decaying bodies, two bleached skulls in place of its eyes glaring hatefully at them.

"...Um..." Vince turned to look at Zeliax. He seemed impassive as he gazed at the horrible creature, though he'd drawn a knife and was holding it at the ready. "About that thing where we might be facing remnants of other prisoners here."

"Yes?"

"Did the legends say we'd be facing all of them stuck together?"

"...No, red cub." He dropped into a guard stance. "We're learning something new today."

"Great. I'd have rather had another engineering class."

The golem lumbered for them with a howl.


	12. Wrath and Chaos (2)

Reawakening  
Chapter 9: Wrath and Chaos (2)

* * *

Life _really_ had no business in this horrible place. Bruno flicked his claws out with a growl, watching the grotesque construct bear down on them. He couldn't tell if the bodies were actually _dead_ or not, but there was no question they were no longer alive.

 _It will be a mercy_. _Yes. We will free this abomination from its torment._

The monstrosity screamed in rage as it slammed its arms down on the ground, the shock wave knocking them about like rag dolls. Bruno dug his heels into the sand, barely remaining upright. Off to his side, Larmina landed hard and kept sinking, the dark desert turning into quicksand beneath her.

"Oh hell no." Daniel sprinted for her, grabbing her hand and yanking her free. "This place doesn't play fair—don't even _say_ it."

"For once I agree with you. This is ridiculous." She raced forward as the golem tried to recover from its strike, cracking its forearm with her staff and taking a wicked kick to her ribs in return. "Okay," she doubled over and coughed, "big angry thing really hurts, too!"

Imam threw his scythe, carving a deep gash across the creature's chest; Daniel joined in with his talons. A blur of silver drove into its back at the same time, Zeliax flipping his knife at the beast. Direct hits all, but not much effect.

"Don't give it any time to get set up again!" Larmina yelled, pushing her staff into the blades Daniel had fired to drive them deeper.

Seemed reasonable to Bruno. He dropped to all fours for better traction on the sand and charged, feeling one paw start to slip, pouncing with all his might as the golem turned to face him. Like most Ailurians he preferred to use his mobility. But also like most Ailurians, if he had to go claw to claw, he would make the enemy regret it dearly.

He slammed hard into the golem's shoulder, digging in with his claws. The shudder of revulsion nearly knocked him right back off as his fingers dug into the decaying mass. _Disgusting_. Tearing at the creature he ripped a chunk of flesh free, wincing. Even doing damage to the beast didn't actually make him feel any better. _We must end this. Quickly_. _It isn't this monster's fault_. Several rotting hands reached out to him, flinging him back to the ground. _Probably_.

At the same time as his attack, Larmina had taken another swing. Daniel had moved in too, cutting a few more shreds of flesh from the golem. But this wasn't working. The wounds were nasty... in more ways than one. But still superficial. With another shriek the abomination knocked them back again, and bore down on Bruno before he could regain his footing.

... _And once again._ _This is going to suck_.

At the last second a dark blur darted in front of him, Zeliax taking the full blow directly to the chest. To Bruno's shock he staggered back a few steps but otherwise seemed unharmed. "We're going to need to do more damage than this, cubs."

"Great! Got any bright ideas?"

"I've got one," Vince offered before the masked man could respond. "Cover me!"

 _This ought to be good._ Vince having ideas usually was.

Zeliax had produced another knife, though he seemed to have more or less given up on attacking with it. "Go, green cub. I'll buy you time." As he spoke the golem brought its hands down on him again in a strike that should have shattered bones, but didn't—it drove him to his knees, but he blocked with his forearm without so much as a cry of pain.

 _No time to wonder!_ Bruno jumped up and ran for Vince, throwing a punch with his spiked gauntlets as he passed. Daniel was waiting with Larmina; Imam had chosen to hang back where he could throw his scythe most effectively.

"Okay Magic Man, what've you got?"

He held up his weapon, the morningstar burning bright. "Wish me luck. I'm not quite sure how this works."

"Sounds about normal. Go for it, dude."

Nodding, Vince stepped forward, his eyes flaring with energy. Then he broke into a run. The team ran beside him, bearing down on the abomination as it focused its fury on Zeliax. "One shot," the Red Lion pilot whispered under his breath as he pulled the morningstar across his chest.

Tendrils of white light erupted from his fingertips, creeping up the shaft of the weapon. Just as it had done on the outside, except this time he was apparently expecting it. Perhaps even commanding it. The morningstar's spikes glowed, pale threads springing out from them, and he lashed out with the weapon as if it were more a whip than a mace.

The golem froze as the tendrils wrapped around its limbs, energy surging from Vince into the monstrosity. It reared up and shrieked, lunging for Zeliax and knocking him some fifty feet across the sand, writhing and trying to shake the whips off.

"It's working!"

"No it's not."

The golem spun and several of the decaying hands on its body seized the whips, yanking the weapon out of Vince's grasp. "...Uh oh."

Daniel's eyes narrowed as the creature lumbered for them. "No. It's not over yet. Everyone give it everything you've got!"

Bruno crouched as the others charged, watching the morningstar flail about. He would only be so much help close in. His weapons weren't suited to this type of enemy. But there were other things he could do, other ways he could be useful. If he could just get a good sense of the mace's movement...

 _There_.

He sprang and seized the handle of the weapon. "Vince! My voltcom!"

"Got it!"

He felt the surge, a fiery energy washing over his forearm. The eyes of his voltcom glowed as they had once before, emitting a white light that surged through the morningstar and into the golem again. It _hurt_. He'd be shocked if his own fur wasn't burning. But if this was what it took...

A bolt of lightning arced above him, crashing down on the creature. _Zeliax?_ Between the lightning and Vince's power he could smell smoke in the air, the acrid scent of decaying flesh set ablaze. Small embers were becoming visible inside the beast's heart, glowing through its component bodies to cast an eerie light over them.

That was when the others hit. Imam's scythe and Daniel's claws drilled into the monstrosity's center. This time the damage was much less superficial; it shrieked again, a chorus of lost voices, its twisted form beginning to crumble and separate into dozens of distinct corpses. Just to make sure there could be no doubt, Larmina leapt into the air, twirling her staff and bringing its end down on the golem like a spear.

The beast staggered, fell back... and exploded.

Once again the shock wave sent them all flying, scattering them over the dark sands. Bruno lost his grip on the morningstar, but that was the least of his concerns; the earth was trying to suck him in, and he couldn't find any purchase to break free.

"Bruno!" Daniel appeared out of nowhere, grabbing for his arm, but only slipped into the quicksand himself. "...Oh crap..." The pool around them actually seemed to be expanding. "Um, guys? We've got a problem over here!"

The others came rushing, Imam and Larmina drawing up short as they saw the earth churning. "Don't fight," Vince ordered from behind them, looking more than a little panicked. "If you fight it'll just get worse, just relax and float there and we'll have time to come up with a plan..."

Immediately Bruno tried to relax, though it certainly wasn't coming easily. It also didn't actually seem to be helping anything.

"That would be normal quicksand," Larmina pointed out, "not crazy evil chaos quicksand!"

"Eloquently put," Bruno muttered.

Suddenly the sand seemed to just... let go? The earth was falling away like a retreating tide, leaving a small pool of water at their feet. "What the...?"

"Stop staring and move!" Zeliax snapped. "I'm not sure how long I can hold this."

Scrambling out of the hole Bruno turned to face the dark figure, his eyes behind the mask shining with golden light. Something strange was emanating from him at the same time. A feeling that wasn't quite life energy, but something deep and ancient. Elemental. He remembered the lightning that had struck the golem earlier. This enemy was a sorcerer as surely as that witch had been, but his magic wasn't so dark... and if he could wield the natural elements in such an unnatural place, it was strong indeed.

Daniel followed him out of the quicksand, eyeing their rescuer suspiciously. "...Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. It's expanding." With one last surge of amber light the ground just beneath their feet solidified, the chaos desert becoming dark sandstone. Zeliax dropped to one knee, breathing shallowly. "Look."

"Holy hells," Larmina whispered. He was right. The quicksand was swirling on all sides of the rocky sanctuary, a whirlpool just waiting to swallow them up. "...And let me guess, for all your big talk you can't do anything more about that?"

"Do you remember where we _are_ , blue cub? I bought us time. Perhaps we should do something productive with it."

Probably true. Bruno looked around. "So. Any ideas about an exit?"

"I think we may be looking at it."

All eyes fell on Imam, startled. "Um... how do you figure that?" Vince asked finally, when it became obvious he wasn't going to elaborate. "All I see is turbo charged quicksand."

"Yes." The Ghostwalker nodded. "But this world is illusion and madness. This is likely to be another trap, like the one which brought us to this area in the first place. We may have to go through the quicksand to proceed."

Even Bruno gave him a look of disbelief. Surely he wasn't telling them to...

"...Jump in, then?" Daniel asked. Okay, maybe that was exactly what he was telling them to do.

"Yes. I think so."

Zeliax nodded slowly. "That does make sense."

"Sure," Vince muttered. "Why not? We're only in a chaos dimension where people get turned into freaky corpse golems if they get trapped. Why not jump into the man-eating quicksand?" He paused as everyone else turned to glare at him. "...Uh, I mean, I don't have any better ideas."

Imam gave a small, grim smile, reaching out to touch his arm. "It will be alright, my friend."

"Okay." Daniel stepped to the edge of the stone. "All jump on three?" A round of answering nods. Bruno took a deep breath, gathering his courage. This was insane, but this whole Chaos Realm was insane, so... "One, two, three!"

They jumped.

Bruno never felt the sand; rather than being caught back in the muck, his paws seemed to only hit a swirl of water. Was it even water? It didn't feel right, something more ethereal, perhaps more like a whirlpool of pure energy. Whatever it was, it was trying to tear them apart. _No_. They couldn't be separated. He reached out, stretching as far as he could, grabbing Daniel's wrist with one hand and a handful of Zeliax's cloak with the other. Someone else grabbed his ankle in a death grip, though he couldn't tell who—it didn't matter in any case.

 _Stay together. Just stay together!_

Suddenly the world was blurring around him, the shadows grasping with as much power as the vortex that had brought them here... and an instant later they were back on the cliff, stumbling apart from each other as the solid earth hit them.

"Wha...?"

"We did it!"

"What just...?"

"Is this even real?"

Bruno sank to his knees, digging his claws into the warm earth and feeling the cool grass beneath his paws. He'd never been so glad to feel the wind, the whispers of life. Such things couldn't be mistaken or imitated. Life was life, and its embrace was true. "...It's real."

* * *

A surge of wind from behind them cut off any celebration. In the sheer shock of the moment, the near giddiness of actually _escaping_ from the Chaos Realm, Imam had momentarily forgotten about their unwanted companion. Now he turned, drawing his wraith scythe. _This is not over yet._

Daniel whipped around to face the masked traitor, calling his talons again. "Haven't had enough today, huh? Fine. We'll leave you to rot _here_."

The others stepped up as well, fanning out around their leader. Zeliax looked at each of them in turn, taking in their cold glares and blazing weapons... and then he laughed. Soft, but clear. "You still think you can kill me?"

Larmina dropped into an attack stance. "Won't know until we try!"

"I have no quarrel with you, cubs." Lightning gathered in his hands, silver light sparking in his eyes. "Only those lions behind you. Run, and you won't have to be—"

He froze.

Imam could feel it, though he had no idea what he was feeling. It wasn't entirely unlike the jolt that had shot through the lions when they arrived, a burst of unfocused spiritual power, except this burst was _very_ focused. And strong. Immediately the energy in Zeliax's eyes faded and he staggered back a few steps, shaking his head as if dazed.

Daniel and Larmina took the opportunity to lunge, and Bruno sprang right after them, only for all three to be thrown back by another windburst. But their enemy still looked distinctly unsettled as he retreated from them, and his voice had gone from confident to badly wavering. "...This is no reprieve, as if it were in _my_ power to grant you one. You're defending a universe that hates you, and will be rewarded with suffering and death. If you're lucky." He took another shaky step back. "We will meet again, and maybe that battle will be more relevant. Until then, cubs. Enjoy your borrowed time."

And with that, he turned away and vanished into the shadows.

"...The hell."

The five of them just stood there for a minute, staring at the spot where Zeliax had disappeared. Imam half expected him to return a moment later and attack, but as silence settled over the cliff it became clear he wasn't going to. Probably for the best. Daniel and Larmina's confidence aside, Imam had seen the strange man's power all too clearly. Never even mind what he'd done with the quicksand. The chaos golem had landed blow after blow, and yet he didn't seem to have taken so much as a bruise.

The powers he'd displayed hardly fit with the Lord of Wrath, but perhaps his taking the name of a god was less arrogant than it had seemed...

"Well. That was, uh... that was interesting." Vince stepped up beside Daniel. "A universe that hates us? What does that even mean?"

"I think that's jerk-speak for 'thanks for saving my butt, but I'm evil and have to try to make you feel crappy about it.' Ignore him." Larmina shrugged and banished her staff. "I'll be okay if we never have to do anything like that again. Jump in the quicksand together, seriously... how did you even figure that out, Imam?"

 _Ah, yes. Of course someone would ask that_. His eyes flickered, and he gave a bit of a nervous laugh. "Intuition? I could not be certain, but it seemed logical. Imposing order clearly required something more than simply remaining together; we had to remain together while engulfed in chaos."

"Wait." Vince gave him a look. "So you didn't _actually_ know if you were going to get us killed or not."

Shrug. "I thought it was unlikely. Options were not in great supply."

Daniel looked like he would have had something to say about that too, but their voltcoms crackled before he had a chance. "Oh hello there, cubs! Welcome back! You guys have a nice trip to who the hell knows where?"

"Oh." Larmina rolled her eyes. "Hi, Lance."

"Boy, have we ever got a story for you..."

"And I'd love to hear about it, but first things first. You want to maybe get back in your lions and come deal with, oh, the _entire Drule fleet_ that dropped in while you were gone?" There was a brief pause, and a muffled "gotcha!" that was obviously not meant to be transmitted. "You know. Just a suggestion."

Imam hesitated, looking back towards the castle. From here they couldn't see anything, but of course the Imperials would strike... "On our way, Commander."

As he climbed into Yellow Lion, Zeliax's words resonated in his mind. Not his strange final warning, but earlier. _You fly a lion? Shouldn't that bother you?_ Of course it should. Of course it had, in those first uncertain moments when he'd stepped into the earthen den, submitting to the great one's judgment. As Voltron slept, the Protectorate had seen it as much a source of nightmares as the Chaos Realm had been. But now?

"No, fiend," he whispered to the empty cockpit. "I am not bothered. I am Imam of the Voltron Force. I earned that name, and I bear it proudly." His eyes glowed as the Imperial fleet came into view, and he pushed ahead to shield his allies. "As chaos would not divide us, neither will fear... or wrath."

Even as they entered combat, bearing down on a cruiser that was raining fire down on the castle, he could feel Yellow Lion purring around him. Yes, there could be no doubt. This was where he belonged.

* * *

Celebration may have been a bit premature, but Kargil certainly felt he deserved it. After all, it was only a matter of time with the children out of the way. Telok had reported that automated defenses were engaging, but they were weak. A stalling tactic at best. There was no need to watch the siege, so he chose to watch something much more pleasant.

But then all of a sudden, his harem was burning.

"What?!"

The music they'd been dancing to was immediately drowned out by the screams, the women running wildly about the throne room like living torches. Only one seemed to have been spared: Amitra, his favorite, recoiled and cowered at the foot of his throne, watching her sisters burn.

"Be _still!"_ he roared, mentally cursing. It wouldn't do to have them set the whole room ablaze. Whether they couldn't hear him over their screaming or simply refused to obey he wasn't sure, but either way several had thrown themselves to the ground, rolling and writhing against the flames. But soon they began to still. Dying. Slowly, one by one, the burning bodies winked out before him, leaving his throne room strewn with the charred remnants of women who had once been the envy of the Empire.

Through it all the emperor had remained on his throne, trying to make sense of the nonsensical. Sorcery? Yes, it could only have been some work of the occult. If the Circle had botched some practice spell, _they_ would dance for his pleasure until the harem was replaced...

A soft laugh rang out over the throne room. "It's your own fault they suffered, you know. I just set their clothes on fire. Maybe if they'd been _wearing_ a bit more, they would have burned quickly enough not to feel much pain..."

...That voice. That damnable voice.

"Zeliax!" Kargil shot to his feet, glowering at the shadows. "You dare to defy the lord of the Drule Empire? This insolence will not stand!"

"Insolence?" He sounded bored. "You haven't even seen insolence. Would you like to? I see I missed one." The shrouded figure stepped forward from the entrance to the throne room, his gaze turned on Amitra's trembling form. "A pity for her, really... poor thing must be terrified, hmm? I wonder if her lord and emperor will save her..."

Amitra started to stammer something, but Kargil turned a withering glare on her. His harem was taught not to speak without permission, and he certainly hadn't given it _here_ , with this sneering wretch vying for his power. "No! You will not participate in this heretic's games, pet. Silence!"

"Oh, she won't speak." A burst of wind threw her into the air, gasping and clutching at her throat as she hung suspended before the throne. "But whether to be part of the game is not her decision... nor yours."

"You _dare_ dictate to me?"

"Are you going to stop me? Your pretty toy is dying, Kargil..." Another low laugh. "Do you care about her? No? Or do you perhaps care what it will do to your image, your supposed power, if you stand there helpless while she breaks? Maybe you should beg me to spare her. I might be convinced."

"Miserable wretch! You'll spare her when I part your head from your shoulders!" Charging through the ash and lunging at the shadowy form, Kargil drew his blade to do just that. In the back of his mind he realized Zeliax wasn't even trying to defend himself, and that should be worrisome, but he was far too enraged for such things to really register.

His sword struck cleanly, flawlessly. A beautifully executed decapitating strike, feeling no resistance in his follow-through. A perfect cut.

The only problem was that the blade had disintegrated on contact.

Zeliax looked up at him, a cold smile twisting his shadowed features. "Oh, you should _see_ the look on your face. Would you like another demonstration? Here. Let me show you." Quicker than even the serpent-swift Drule could follow, he seized Kargil's other blade from its sheath and drove the tip squarely into his own chest.

It shattered.

 _What...?_

For the first time in his life, Kargil felt terror. Absolute, crippling terror. This pitiful creature was suddenly a monster—the god of wrath? It couldn't be. And yet how could any mortal's voice hold the cold rage suddenly dripping from his words? "You..."

"Emperor Kargil. We had a bargain, you and I. I would give you my knowledge, you would destroy the machine for me, the galaxy would be yours. So very, very simple. But you couldn't handle it, could you?" He took a step forward, and the emperor took a shaky step back. "Drules. You're all the same. Worthless, backstabbing cowards. Let me make something _very_ clear." A few more steps. Kargil hit something and stumbled; a smoldering corpse. "I do not need you, Kargil. I can find another pawn. _You_ need _me_. You need my favor. Because otherwise, you're nothing but vermin to be swept aside. And make no mistake, I will take _great_ pleasure in doing so."

Behind him he heard a dull thud that could only be Amitra's body dropping to the ground. Dead, no doubt. Still, he would not bow to the horror before him, he would not succumb to this... "What a hypocrite you are." His voice came out more strained than defiant. "All your concern about casualties, and now you would slaughter us all?"

"Tactics, Emperor. Something I'm aware you have no understanding of." Zeliax snorted derisively. "You and your fleet are my tools; it is _my_ decision when to break you. But I was content to be your advisor, until you forced my hand. Now you will do as you're told." A wreath of flame appeared at his fingertips, crimson light flaring briefly in his eyes. "Or will you require further convincing?"

Kargil gritted his teeth. _Very well, infidel. I'll play your game for now_. There was a way out of this, a way to punish this wretch for his arrogance. There had to be. He would find it and crush him mercilessly, but to do that he needed time. "...Very well. We are at your service."

Nod. "Better. Did the Witch-Primus manage to survive her trip to the planet? One of the cubs seemed to think not."

"She was badly wounded, but she lives." _Despite the damnable failure her great victory turned out to be._

"Good... I'm sure this will wound her more. Inform her from now on she will follow my orders _exactly_. Our goals remain aligned, Emperor. Thank whatever gods you wish to for that." He laughed again, the flames fading. "Perhaps you should beg the god of wrath for his mercy... because I won't show it again."

* * *

"...So let me get this straight." Lance leaned back against the main console, one eyebrow arched, giving them his very best _you-cadets-are-gonna-be-the-death-of-me_ face. "You went to investigate that energy signature and, and found this collaborator fighting against the Drules' boss witch."

"Yep."

"And the witch threw you into some sort of chaos pocket dimension, but you're pretty sure you killed her."

"Pretty sure, yeah."

"And she tossed him in there with you too, and he said he's still working with Kargil but it's nothing personal and he doesn't want you dead."

"Indeed, Commander."

"And then you fought a giant monster made out of dead Drules and jumped through a quicksand portal, and then the dude nearly killed you anyway but changed his mind, and here you are."

"Yes."

Lance groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead. "I picked the wrong century to stop drinking."

"Probably."

He shot Vince a dark look. "I wasn't asking for agreement on that!" His successor jumped back a little as the others snickered. "Okay." Sigh. Turning to the console, he brought up a tactical replay of the battle... such as it was. "I'm pretty sure this is the weirdest invasion ever. On the upside—or possibly downside, depending how you look at it—we did just learn that apparently even Kargil has limits to his crazy."

The Drule fleet hadn't hung around for long once Voltron had entered the battle. Long enough to lose a couple of cruisers and a battleship, but that was only fair, since they'd knocked out damn near the entire automated defense network. It actually hadn't been a half bad little system, he had to admit. But a proper warfleet had outclassed the emplacements as surely as Voltron outclassed the warships.

Not to mention as surely as Voltron at full power would outclass Voltron now, but anyway.

The odd thing, because there _always_ had to be an odd thing, was that the retreat didn't seem to have been prompted by anything in particular. They hadn't broken and fled when Voltron first appeared. They hadn't run for it when the kids decided _stabbing a battleship_ was the coolest way to say hello. Really they hadn't even started retreating after either cruiser went down. If they'd had some signal he couldn't imagine what it was.

But there were a lot of things he couldn't have imagined...

Lance was keeping up a cocky front for the cadets, but in truth he was much more worried by their recent bits of news than he'd let on. First the spy's defection, now this collaborator in some conflict with the very people he was collaborating with. The issue here wasn't the Drules being crazy or stupid. It didn't necessarily mean they _weren't_ crazy or stupid, but all he could be certain of was that the Empire was politically unstable.

Political instability was bad. Political instability led to crap like, say, making a genocidal lunatic like Herbert Wade into Sky Marshal of the Alliance. Political instability, apparently, meant a total nutcase like Kargil could launch a suicidal invasion and not get murdered in his sleep. And most of all, political instability meant there was no way of predicting what the enemy might get in mind to do next.

 _You asked for this, dumbass. When you finally see the others again you're going to get the biggest I-told-you-so_ ever _, and you're gonna deserve it_. A bittersweet smile crept over his face. _So as much as you miss them, let's see what we can do about putting off that meeting, shall we?_

He turned back to the cadets and clasped his hands together, his smile becoming bright and more than a little mocking. "The other good news is, we still have enough time for an evening sim run!" A round of groans answered, as he'd known it would've, and he injected a little extra cheer into his tone just on principle. "Oh, go on, you know you love it. It's gotta be better than that Chaos Realm, right? Get moving."


	13. Leap of Faith

Reawakening  
Chapter 10: Leap of Faith

* * *

Larmina had no idea how they'd managed to swing some actual, honest-to-god _free time_ in the midst of the training from hell. It was like every new piece of evidence that the Drules were a disorganized mess actually just bothered Lance more. Made no sense to her. But after two and a half days of nonstop sim runs, suddenly he'd just cut them loose for the afternoon. Maybe he felt bad about that wonderful welcome back from the Chaos Realm?

...Naaah, probably not. It might have more to do with the sim pod that seemed to have been nibbled on by a space mouse.

In any case, she'd taken to exploring the Castle of Lions. Why not? If anyone had a right to look around the place it was the Lady Larmina Kamala sen-Idris, descendant of the legendary Queen Allura herself. Granted, pretty much _every_ member of the Arusian nobility was descended from Queen Allura, given that Zarkon had wiped out most of the other bloodlines all those centuries ago. But it sounded impressive!

The castle staff barely took any notice of her as she moved through the hallways. Mostly a skeleton crew of the same Alliance personnel who'd run the Academy here, with no idea or particular care how to act around royalty. Fine with her as long as they didn't get in her way. They didn't seem inclined to, probably more because of her Voltron Force uniform than her title, but whatever worked.

A carved wooden door caught her attention. _That_ was interesting, in the middle of all the functional steel and Flexplate. "Hello. What've we got here?" The wood looked ancient. Surely this would be something more worthwhile than another empty conference room.

Pushing the door open she was hit with an immediate chill. Not just the temperature, either. The dark hallway stretching in front of her was _creepy_.

"Cool..."

The hallway stretched for a bit before doubling back and beginning to slope downwards. A few more reversals brought her to a long, wide hallway lined with alcoves. From what she could see of it, it was decorated in pretentious carvings and a touch of early spiderweb. And most of the alcoves didn't seem to lead to other corridors, but...

 _...Oh_.

Two things hit her at once. First was that she'd just managed to stumble into the crypts. Second was that the hallway wasn't empty.

"Larmina?" Imam was sitting on a small ledge apparently cut into the wall for just that purpose, and looked every bit as surprised to see her as she was to see him. After a moment he regained some composure, cocking his head as the startled light in his eyes faded. "...I would ask what brings you here, but I suppose that is obvious."

Obvious? At least one of them thought her being in the crypts made sense. "I'd love to hear what _you_ think I'm here for."

He blinked. "These are your ancestors, are they not?"

...Well, now that he mentioned it... "Pretty distant, but yeah." Pause. "Um, how did you know that?"

"I have studied." A brief, awkward hesitation. "I mean, I have not studied you specifically of course, but the heritage charts of those buried here. Your name happens to appear."

Of course. On purpose or not, it was still a little weird to think about. "Uh huh. You probably know my family tree better than I do, don't you?"

Now he looked distinctly embarrassed, his eyes giving off the same soft glow they got when Lance singled him out in training runs. "That... is a possibility, yes. I mean no offense."

"Relax a little, seriously." She wasn't offended. A bit weirded out, but not offended. "You come down here often?"

 _...Great, Larmina. Now you sound like you're hitting on him! Fortunately he's him and totally won't notice._

Imam nodded, suddenly looking quite a bit more animated. "Indeed. It is a comforting place, even if I cannot properly speak to the spirits. There is much ancient wisdom in these catacombs." He half turned, motioning for her to follow, his sheepish tone giving way to enthusiasm. "I have become quite familiar with the layout. Would you like to visit your ancestors here?"

 _Visit...?_

Larmina remained silent for a minute, trying to decide how she should even respond to that. She personally still found the crypts creepy, and the idea of 'visiting' her long-dead ancestors struck her as more than a little bit weird. But at the same time, she couldn't help being kind of curious. And really, after watching the change that came over the Ghostwalker at the prospect, she couldn't quite bring herself to say no; weird or not, he seemed so darn excited about it!

"...Sure."

A wide grin spread over his face. And as she followed, to her own surprise, Larmina found herself matching it. This could be interesting after all.

* * *

"No, dude, not like that! You can't hit the boss with his shield up, you'll take counter damage."

"The strategy guide didn't say anything about that..."

"A book. You read a book. I invited you to the ultimate Lion Force showdown and you prepared for it by reading a book!"

"I'd never played it before!" Vince turned to Daniel and stuck his tongue out as his respawn timer counted down. "And I've still only died half as much as you, so..."

"Whatever, dude. Beginner's luck."

They'd loaded one of Daniel's personal console games to the rec room's computers, because holo-games were way more fun with full immersion. This one was _Lion Force: Reclaiming the Alliance_ , a fairly obscure entry into what was a cult franchise to begin with. Well, _had_ been a cult franchise. He'd heard sales had spiked unbelievably due to recent events.

 _Heh. If only they knew_...

He was starting to see how Daniel seemed to know so much about Voltron despite barely paying attention in class. Dude had this game memorized. "How is this even fun for you, anyway? You know everything that's gonna happen, and you fly an _actual_ lion now..."

Pause. Then the pause turned into a longer pause. A bit of a sheepish blush had crept over Daniel's face before he finally answered. "Um... habit?"

Vince turned and stared at him in disbelief. "You're an idiot."

"Hey! It's still exciting! And it's educational now, sheesh. At least wait to call me an idiot until I'm actually being an idiot."

"Won't have to wait long," he muttered under his breath.

"I HEARD THAT."

"I meant it in the nicest way possible!"

The door sliding open cut him off, and they both swung around to face the intruder. Bruno stepped into the rec room, looked between them, and blinked. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes! I mean, no!"

"Maybe?"

Well, good. Now at least _he_ was confused too.

"...So uh, what brings you here?" Daniel finally asked. "I didn't think you liked hanging out indoors when you don't have to."

"I don't. There's a storm coming in." He gave a mildly disapproving growl and dropped onto the couch. "Static electricity is hell on my fur. It's uncomfortable."

 _Huh_. Vince had never stopped to think about the logistics of having fur. "You're not used to it?"

"No. We don't have thunderstorms on Ailouros." The cat man leaned back and crossed his arms, dark eyes falling on the gaming screens. "What's this? You found a way to get around the sim malfunction?"

Daniel gave him a scandalized look. "Don't tell me you don't have video games on Ailouros either?"

"Oh! Of course we do. Not very popular though. This is a game?" He studied the screens more closely. "It looks very much like a simulator. What's so fun about a game of what we're already doing?"

Vince laughed a little as Daniel glowered. "And that's where you came in."

"Honestly, you two. The controls are totally different than the lions. Different skillsets. Different bad guys. Learn to live a little!"

Bruno considered that, then nodded. "Have room for another? It looks interesting. I've never actually played a video game."

That got him an even more scandalized look. "What do you do in your free time, then? Run around outside in the great green wild or whatever?"

"Yes." He stood and accepted the control pad Daniel handed him, holding it a bit awkwardly in his paws. After a bit of experimentation he at least managed to select the Green Lion icon on the setup screen. "That sounds strange to you? Probably as strange as this game seems to me?"

"Probably," Vince agreed. It was an interesting thought. He'd always spent most of his own free time tinkering with tech equipment; in fact that was how he'd ended up here having game day in the first place. Gamer and pilot Daniel may have been, but he'd had no idea how to load a stand-alone holo game onto a larger system. The allure of video games made sense to him—if maybe not video games about Voltron. But just being outside all day? That seemed weird.

"That's fair." Bruno smiled as he started to get the hang of the controls, falling into place next to his teammates. "I should teach the two of you to climb trees. After the weather clears."

 _Wait, what did we just get ourselves into?_

Before he could protest that the outdoors really weren't his thing, Daniel decided to go all leader mode, because why wouldn't he? "Sounds fun! You're on."

... _Sure. Why not?_

This team really was a bunch of crazies. But, Vince decided as he focused on the game, they were _his_ crazies. Maybe that made it all not so bad.

* * *

 _You can't stay holed up in here forever, you know_.

Serek was pacing the main room of his quarters, lost in thought. He was pretty sure he should be off doing his duty. Attending to Zeliax, trying to figure out what secrets he was hiding. But really, what was the point anymore? He'd shown his true colors.

And they were horrifying.

He'd seen the whole thing. Not that he'd really wanted to; he tended to quietly remove himself from the throne room when his father's harem was at work. Instead he'd been watching the siege on the bridge, and had rushed back to report when the lions had arrived. But what he'd walked into was a nightmare.

 _He's a demon. And here you thought..._

Someone knocked on the door. "Enter!" he barked a bit more harshly than he'd meant to; he wasn't upset to be interrupted. Quite the opposite. His vehemence was more because he wanted the distraction that badly.

Perhaps he should have asked who was there first. As the door slid open to admit a dark, cloaked form, he wasn't quite sure whether to drop to his knees or flee. His legs probably wouldn't have cooperated anyway; all he could really do was freeze.

"Lord Zeliax..."

"There's no need for that, Prince Serek."

No need for that. No need for such a title when he'd just forced the Emperor himself to bow to his will. "What do you require of me?" he finally asked, deciding it was best not to even address that issue.

"An attack will be launching within the hour." The shadow tilted his head slightly. "And I hadn't seen you since I returned from my... mission earlier in the week. It seemed strange. Is there a problem?"

Interesting. Had his presence in the throne room gone unnoticed? He supposed the demon had been quite focused on his father. _Is there a problem_... perhaps he should play along, but the words came out before he could think better of them. "You desire the presence of a worthless, backstabbing coward, then?"

"...Ah." To his surprise, Zeliax actually hesitated. Looked up at him and then away, one hand toying with the fabric of his cloak. "No... I suspect you'll consider this a grave insult, Prince Serek, but I find it hard to think of you as a Drule."

Usually, when Kargil threatened someone for stating things that displeased him, Serek watched with vague confusion. It seemed so unnecessary to him—the idea of slaying someone so swiftly for mere words, without even trying to counter what had been spoken. But suddenly, for the first time, he understood completely. Because in that moment he wanted nothing at all except to charge forward and rip Zeliax's head from his shoulders.

Dying here wouldn't help anything or anyone, so he suppressed the urge. But the fury that dripped from his voice was enough to startle even him. "You _dare_?"

Zeliax seemed unshaken, as usual. "Dare? I suppose." He looked away for a moment. "Do you not understand? Of all people I'd think maybe you could... you've been holed up on your homeworlds for more than three centuries, silent and isolated. What do we have to go on? Our last contact with the Drule Empire: Zarkon's brutality, Lotor's insanity. A planet called Doom, a fortress that was practically a shrine to torture and despair. These are what define your people in the eyes of the Alliance. What am I supposed to make of _you_?"

Those words didn't fully calm the fury, but they gave him something to focus on besides ill-advised murderous impulses. And the more he thought about it...

 _Perhaps he has a point after all?_

In all the time he'd been trying to grasp the mystery that was Zeliax, it had never occurred to Serek that he might be an equal enigma himself. But why not? Everything he'd said was true. The Empire and the Alliance had only ever had contact at the barrel of a gun or tip of a sword. Never simple diplomacy.

"I know the mad ones are the loudest," he murmured. "But more are like me, Lord Zeliax. Maybe not here, but on the homeworlds. If what you say is true... have we been doing it wrong all this time? Could we convince the Alliance we aren't all such monsters, seek peace with words rather than dominion through arms?"

For an instant, silver lightning crackled in the eyes beneath the mask. "I don't recommend attempting that. It would inconvenience me."

The threat was implicit. "Then despite your questions, you sentence us to war."

"So long as it serves my purpose." He crossed his arms. "Do you think I'm here to better your empire, Prince Serek?"

There was only one possible answer to that question. "Of course not."

"No. Understand this. There is nothing more important than the destruction of Voltron. If your legions do end up spending themselves for that goal, so be it. If the Alliance suffers in the process, so much the better. But in the end my only objective is simple. _Voltron must die_. Do you understand?"

Serek wanted to say he understood, but of course he didn't. He couldn't fathom this hatred. Yet there was something almost calming about the strange man's indifference. No illusions, no games. One goal, and all else subjugated in service of it. Being subjugated himself did not sit well. But then, he'd been serving his father's whims all this time without complaint—now he simply served a different madness. And perhaps, if he found Zeliax's favor, he could protect his people from it.

He took a slow breath, choosing his words carefully. "Again you say your quarrel is only with Voltron... do you not hate us as much as you claimed to, then?"

A hesitation. "I meant every word of what I said to your father. Draw whatever conclusions you want to from that."

Between that and what he'd said about the Alliance, there really only seemed to be one conclusion _to_ draw. "Do you simply hate everything?"

This time the answer was immediate. "Yes."

"Then why seek me out?"

Zeliax stared at him for a long moment, toying with the edge of his cloak again. "...You remind me of someone," he said finally, and Serek's eyes widened at the admission. But he wasn't going to get anything further. "Come on. We have a battle to watch."

* * *

Tree-climbing would have to be put on hold. Nearly the moment the brief storm blew over, the alarms had started screaming. Of _course_ free time had been too good to be true.

Today's robeast was a bat. "Are we fighting the Drule Empire or some deranged zookeeper?" Daniel muttered as Voltron approached the monster. "At least this one's easier to take seriously than a bunny, I guess."

"Maybe worry less about aesthetics and more about stopping the bad guy," Larmina suggested. "Here it comes!"

Grin. "Let's soften this thing up." As the robeast charged, Voltron raised its arms, firing a burst of flame from Red Lion's mouth and several plasma bolts from Green's back turret. The flames engulfed the beast and drew a howl of pain, then the plasma drove it back. "Looks like Batty here's another junk monster. Maybe their new boss witch isn't any good?"

Bruno didn't sound convinced. "A little early for that kind of confidence. Isn't it?"

"Let's find out. Form Blazing Sword!" As the smoke cleared around the robeast, Voltron lunged and thrust the blade forward. The bat creature drew up short, gathering its cloak-like wings in front of it, and the stab bounced right off.

"...You were saying, hotshot?" Larmina demanded.

Oh, well _that_ was going to complicate things. "Okay then! Guess we'll have to slip in under its guard." Daniel made a face. "At least it doesn't reflect the damage, right?"

Vince and Bruno laughed. Imam and Larmina were probably just confused, but oh well. Served them right for not playing video games. They dropped back, pulling Voltron into a defensive stance. _Let's see what this thing has for us, other than annoying armor_.

Batty charged, but at the last second it reared back. Voltron had swung the Blazing Sword to counter the attack, and hit empty air. That would've been recoverable in itself. But then the robeast let out a horrific, earsplitting screech.

Suddenly everything went _wrong_.

Keeping Voltron's balance was usually a trivial exercise. That sense of Black Lion's presence in the back of his mind seemed to subtly guide him in small piloting adjustments, keeping him on the same wavelength as his teammates. It was how Voltron worked, and the only way it _could_ work. But as the bat beast's screech reverberated in the air, that sense abruptly vanished.

Voltron went down in an undignified heap.

"What the hell was that?"

It took a minute for someone to come up with an answer; Vince sounded more than a little shaken. "There's no mechanical reason for it. It's like that blast disrupted Voltron's energy, the power that keeps our minds in sync."

 _Well, yeah. Could have kinda guessed that one. Good to have confirmation though!_

"Okay." He was fighting the controls trying to get Voltron back on its feet. Imam and Larmina were trying to coordinate with him, he could tell that from how Blue and Yellow were moving, but it was impossible. Even the slightest shift could throw their whole center of balance off. "And what do we do about _that?"_

"I think the interference is fading, sir."

As Imam spoke, Daniel could feel the truth of those words. Slowly—way too slowly—Voltron got its legs back underneath it, the sense of coordination returning."Awesome." As he spoke they stood straight, leveling the sword. "Let's try this ag—"

Batty gave another screech, and the simple act of moving the sword dropped Voltron on its ass again. Did Voltron really have an ass? That wasn't the point.

This time the robeast pressed its advantage. "Brace yourselves!" Daniel attempted to follow Vince's panicked yell, but the arms weren't moving any better than the legs. Closing his eyes he took his only remaining option, just trying not to crack his skull on impact.

 _CRASH_.

The blow from the monster's claws knocked them back halfway across the battlefield. "Damage report? Anyone?"

"Armor damage is superficial," Imam answered. "This creature is durable and disruptive, but it is not strong."

"That's a plus." Not much of one, though. If they couldn't fight back this thing could throw them around all day. "So now we just have to figure out how to stop it from blasting us with the attack that makes it so we can't actually do anything to stop it from blasting us. No problem!"

"Totally no problem."

"A bit inconvenient."

Vince chimed in. "Uh, not to ruin the sunny mood or anything. But it also stole our sword."

 _What?_ Sure enough, he looked up and saw the monster looming over them, the Blazing Sword raised overhead. _Oh, crap._ He grabbed his control rods and yanked back as hard as he could; lacking any coordination he had to just brute force it, dragging Red and Green along with him just far enough for the sword strike to miss.

"I think two things are certain," Imam said quietly. "The witch is still alive... and Zeliax has finally made the Emperor listen to him."

* * *

Vince was scrambling. He couldn't find the source of the interference in Voltron's systems; whatever the robeast was hitting them with was disrupting something deeper than electronics. There still had to be something, didn't there? Magic was different than science, but it had its own rules it had to follow. He should be able to find _some_ sign of it...

"It's fading again," Larmina said. It was probably easier for her and Imam to pick up under these circumstances. Vince didn't think Daniel was even trying to do much with Voltron's arms. "Get ready to move when we can!"

"On it!"

Sure enough, before the bat could strike again they were back on their feet. And charging. They had to get the sword back, obviously, but in the meantime they _did_ have other weapons still functioning... he fired Red's lasers as Bruno opened up with Green's plasma turret, but the bat drew its wings in again. No effect.

 _Screech_.

Barely a quarter of the way to the monster, Voltron lost coordination and fell for a third time.

"This is getting stupid," Larmina snarled. "Vince, can you do anything?"

"I'm trying, believe me. I can't even find the system being disrupted."

"Not system stuff! Glowy techno-magic stuff!"

Oh right! Magic. He did magic too. Sometimes he even did it on purpose. "Let me see." Acutely aware of the enemy moving in with the sword, he tried to calm down and focus on Red Lion's presence. _Come on, give me something to work with here, anything_... the glowing whips sprang from his fingers, sinking into his main console. _What's it hitting, Big Red?_

A vision sprang into his mind, the Nexus glowing serenely in Voltron's heart. An instant later that horrible shriek rang through. Now he could see it—the sound waves were carefully calibrated to resonate with the Nexus' crystalline structure, rattling it and forcing its edges just slightly apart as it shook under the assault. If he was reading it right, Voltron's own internal structure was actually worsening the effect, the echoes within the Nexus chamber allowing the disruption to linger.

"Oh, man..."

Before he could report on what he'd found, pain stabbed through his spine, and he couldn't bite back the scream. It was as if someone had driven a knife in straight between his shoulder blades. _What the hell?!_

The others' voices took a few moments to register. "We're okay! It didn't breach the wings."

"The interference is fading again. We must move!"

"Vince? Vince, you there?"

Blink. _It didn't breach the wings_... the pain faded as swiftly as it had set in, and he realized. The robeast had stabbed Voltron's back while he was linked in. "I... I'm here. I'm okay, ish." He was no longer connected to the console but frankly after _that_ experience, he was perfectly happy that way. "Those shrieks are rattling the Nexus apart, just enough to decalibrate it. I can't do anything." His powers could operate on a techno-mystical level, but this? This wasn't a function or malfunction. This was an attack piercing straight to their core.

Taking advantage of the momentary lapse in the interference, Daniel took the only option that seemed available and kicked hard at the monster standing over them. No real point in trying to get distance, not when it would just—

 _Screech_.

"Should we split up?" Bruno asked. "Make the Nexus irrelevant?"

"You can't," Lance broke in. "Not with the sword active, which is another reason I keep telling _someone_ not to pull it out too fast. It drains more power from Voltron than the lions can provide individually and still function, so there's a safeguard in place." Pause. "Besides, even if you get it back, who the hell knows what would happen if you disengage with the Nexus compromised."

That was an excellent point. Vince suddenly couldn't help wondering if taking the sword had been planned rather than an act of opportunity. Given everything else this monster knew about how Voltron worked...

A jolt ran through them and the robot lurched. Another strike, though again the Blazing Sword didn't actually penetrate their armor. "On the plus side," Lance added grimly, "Voltron's own energy won't harm Voltron, so all Bats here can do with the sword is use it as an inconvenient stick."

"A really inconvenient stick," Daniel agreed. "Any actual ideas, boss? Or are you just going to stand there and tell us what we're doing wrong?"

"Working on that."

Did this mean Zeliax knew more about Voltron than Lance did? That was a little terrifying. Or maybe he'd simply never considered having to fend off an attack like this... _screech_. The sword came down across Voltron's knees, and both Imam and Larmina cried out from the feedback.

"Work a little faster, would you?"

"You are getting _so_ many extra drills if you live through this," Lance snapped. "But I've got something. Didn't all your video games teach you the Lion Head Attack?"

Vince had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Daniel seemed to. "...That's a real thing? I thought that was way too overpowered to be a real thing."

"Oh it's real, and it's not 'overpowered' because it tends to leave _you_ a sitting duck. But you're kind of already that, so do it."

"Right, let me figure out..."

The next thing Vince knew he was flying. Fast. Grabbing for the control rods now that they were apparently relevant again, he looked off to his left to see Green Lion speeding along next to him—or at least Green Lion's head.

Well _that_ wasn't weird or unsettling at all.

"You could've warned us about this first!" Larmina yelled a little shrilly. Blue and Yellow's heads were speeding along the ground too, all hurtling for the bat beast as it stepped back and braced.

Okay, this was incredibly bizarre, but there was no sense not taking full advantage. He was moving faster than even Red Lion was normally capable of, and control was accordingly tricky, but he managed to guide the lion head up a bit, pitching for the arm holding the sword. "Bruno, think you can give him a slap on the wrist?"

"Uncertain. I'll try." Green's head pitched sharply and actually sped up a little, striking the robeast and sinking its fangs deep into its forearm.

With a howl of pain the monster swung the Blazing Sword like a baseball bat. Straight at _him_. Vince couldn't move quite fast enough, and next thing he knew he was sailing through the air in the wrong direction and tumbling end over end.

 _I'm so gonna be sick..._

In the meantime Blue Lion's head slammed into the bat's wing and bounced off, treating them all to a flurry of cursing from Larmina. Imam had a bit more luck, Yellow's head striking the monster at the knee. It stumbled and screeched again, apparently not quite clear what was going on around it. Not that Vince could blame it. He still wasn't too sure what the hell was going on himself.

Regaining control, he turned back around and went in for another attack.

Bruno was still resolutely attached to the robeast's wrist, though it was flailing its arm pretty desperately. _There_. Vince's eyes narrowed. _There's my shot_. Lining up as best he could, he rammed Red's head squarely into the monster's fist.

The Blazing Sword went flying.

"Got it!" Larmina yelled, her position suddenly becoming an advantage. Snapping up the handle in Blue's jaws she sped back to Voltron's main body, looking awfully odd without any of its extremities. She dropped the sword at the robot's feet, such as they were, then clearly fumbled a bit before managing to reattach. "The rest of you might want to get back here now."

"Yes. We may just." It looked like Bruno actually had a little trouble detaching Green; not a whole lot of leverage there. Imam and Vince followed him back, the lion heads slamming back into place, and Voltron knelt to reclaim its iconic blade.

 _Screech._

...And now they just had the main problem left. Great.

 _I guess it's something._

* * *

Daniel remained motionless this time. They had Voltron upright, any attempt to move under the disruption effect would just end in them falling down again. Maybe if they just stayed there and fired ranged attacks... most of those would involve moving the arms too, and that was just as risky, but he knew a few other options.

A series of tiny golden darts sprayed from Voltron's horns as Batty came at them again. No apparent damage, though he hadn't really expected much. What the darts did was blind it briefly, just enough that its next attack went slightly off target. Rather than hitting them full on, the monster only clipped Voltron's side.

Still plenty to drop them back on the ground.

 _Damn it_...

"We have to be ready to move again the second we can." Larmina sounded terribly frustrated, and _that_ spoke for all of them. "That gap's our only chance."

"Been trying," Daniel grumbled. "What did you think we were doing?"

Imam broke in before she could snarl back. "The beast seems able to detect when the interference fades. Average response time has been less than two seconds. That is not enough time to launch a killing strike, even assuming we get around its guard." As if to prove his words the sense of coordination returned; they stood and made it halfway through a stabbing motion before the bat screeched again, and the strike skittered harmlessly off its side. This time it followed up with a vicious blow to Voltron's chest, leaving a large dent as they tumbled back again.

"Maybe we do need to split up. Take the second of recovery to disengage safely." Bruno didn't sound too happy with his own idea.

Neither was Daniel. "No." He clenched his fists tight around his controls. "The lions don't have the firepower to off this thing, and we're not running from the fight like that. There has to be a way. This is Voltron, damn it. We're the Voltron Force!"

"A powered down Voltron with an enemy that knows what we're capable of!" Vince countered. "This robeast is obviously tuned to face us in formation, the lions might be able to wear it down."

"I said no!"

"Daniel..."

"They are right, sir. We cannot maintain this way."

"Seriously, stop being an idiot."

Despite the argument from his teammates, Daniel couldn't help noticing the two who _weren't_ arguing. One was Lance, apparently ready to let them hash this out on their own. It was their fight.

The other was Black Lion.

"You know, Black," he whispered without transmitting, "a little help would be great right now. You told me to find the way... but we're in this together, aren't we?"

Abruptly enough to startle him, an echo spoke back in his mind. A memory of something Black had told him, what felt like such a long time ago.

 _When weapons and tactics fail, it is faith that endures._

Faith?

As the interference let up, he guided Voltron into a sitting position, trying to take on a bracing posture rather than bothering to stand. It worked, Batty's next couple of strikes shaking them up but not knocking them over. Daniel looked up at the monster. There had to be something, and he felt like he was staring right at it without being able to fully grasp...

 _Faith_.

"Daniel, what are you _doing?"_

"...Do you guys trust me or not?" he asked finally, quietly. "Black Lion chose me to be the leader, but I can't lead if you won't believe in me." His eyes flashed. "And we can't win if you won't believe in Voltron."

"It's not about believing," Bruno finally answered. "What do you need us to do? Lead, Daniel. We'll follow."

Yeah. It was easy to talk faith. It was harder to find ideas. As he flailed in his mind he felt Black's presence asserting itself. It was a familiar sensation, the same feeling that had come over him when Larmina had been letting Voltron borrow her martial arts talents. But nobody else was giving him anything this time. Black was just kind of there.

As the interference cleared he moved to brace Voltron again, but it felt like he was moving through wet cement. His motions were just so _slow_ , except they weren't, it just felt...

Understanding flooded him.

Voltron was weakened, yes. But Voltron was still a robot, and the lions functioned on a far different level. No matter how quickly he moved, it was like an eternity to Black Lion: the time it took for his nerves to transmit their signals, his body to move to implement them, those orders to flow through the hydraulics to command the lion's movements. They were limited by Voltron's lost energy, but Voltron was equally limited by the physical realities of its pilots. Unless...

Unless he could just...

Distracted by these new revelations, it took him a moment to realize that Voltron had gotten back on its feet during the last opening. But he'd frozen at the controls halfway through.

"Uh, guys?"

"What's going on? Daniel?"

"Black's got something." The words came out in a whisper. "I've got something." He had an instant to register the other presences lurking somewhere beneath his own lion. The others were there, feeling this too, but the bat's next screech washed them out in fog.

This time as it charged, a clawed kick finally managed to pierce Voltron's armor, leaving a deep puncture in Blue's side. "Have something a little faster, would you?"

He probably deserved that. But he _did_ have it now. As the interference faded again he could feel the others falling back into sync with him, and with Voltron. Suddenly all the consoles in front of him seemed so unnecessary. They would have less than two seconds, but they would have this perfect coordination...

 _So what do we do with it?_ A grin spread over his face as he looked at the bat. _We go fast._

"...Guess you have got something, huh?" Apparently now the others were feeling it too. "This is weird."

"Totally weird."

"I know." They weren't wrong. "Just trust me."

"What do you need us to do, sir?"

"Get ready." His eyes narrowed, focusing on the robeast as it stepped back. "We're ending this. Now."

As the interference fully cleared, he could feel it all coming fully together. They weren't moving together anymore. With the lions bridging the way between them, they were _thinking_ together, and the lions were listening.

In the space of a moment, maybe the space of a thought, Voltron sprang to its feet and lunged faster than human reflexes ever would've allowed.

Batty never had a chance. It tried to react, bringing its wings up to block the incoming attack, but it was so _slow_. Maybe it was limited by its biological parts, maybe its robotic parts just weren't as good as Voltron's. It didn't matter. The Blazing Sword was nothing but a blur as they leveled it, operating on thought rather than manual control, thrusting just below the bat's wings and piercing straight through its stomach.

The robeast staggered back and gave one last screech, this time out of pain and shock. And it exploded.

"Holy hells..."

Daniel slumped forward on his main console, hearing the others cheer over the comms. For once he had nothing to say. As Black Lion's grip on his mind faded it was replaced by a moment of sheer mental exhaustion.

 _Okay. Can't do that often. ...But dude..._

After a minute the others seemed to realize their leader wasn't joining in the celebration. "Daniel? You okay?"

He pulled himself up again, shaking his head, trying to fight off the exhaustion. "Yeah. I'm good." That had just happened. They had just _done_ that. "...I'm great!"

"Bring it in, kids," Lance ordered. Was that a bit of approval in his tone? "...And nice job."

* * *

"Well, well. Seems the mighty god of wrath isn't so infallible after all!"

Serek grimaced at his father's words, and not just because he was provoking someone who ought not be provoked. The fact of the matter was that they did still need to defeat Voltron, and failing to do so—no matter what the circumstances—should not be celebrated. Would petty spite now rule the Empire?

 _As if pettiness wasn't ruling already._

For his own part he still couldn't even figure out what had just happened. Voltron had been losing the battle, badly. And then suddenly... what? It had ended in a blur he couldn't make sense of, a flash of color and power that left the knight standing over the monster's ashes.

Even just standing a few feet away from Zeliax, he could feel the anger pouring off him. Though he didn't snarl at Kargil, despite the mockery. In fact he simply remained staring at the monitor, long after the explosion had faded. And finally he murmured a single word.

"Fascinating..."

"Fascinating?" the emperor snapped. "Your brilliant plan failed, or did you not notice?"

"Only one battle, and they wouldn't have lasted long enough to pull that off if your witches were a bit more competent. No matter. I learned a great deal." He crossed his arms. "Voltron has apparently responded to its weakness by becoming more cunning."

Serek looked at him, speaking before his father had a chance. "What do you mean?"

"The pilots are integral to Voltron's function, and become closely bound to their lions. Those bonds can lead to... unexpected capabilities in desperate circumstances. This adaptability is one of its greatest weapons." He shook his head. "These cubs are not the first to discover this, but they've done so more quickly than I expected."

"And what are you going to do about it?" Kargil demanded.

Scowl. "Once the Circle is recovered from this monster, we'll launch an attack that takes the new information into account. That's how strategy works."

"Hmph." The emperor was no doubt going to say something else there, but was interrupted by Telok's arrival in the throne room. "Ah, Admiral. Do you have something to report that might take the sting out of this _abject failure?"_

"Perhaps, sire." As usual, Telok pretended not to notice the tension. Serek envied him sometimes. "Our scouts have found something on the surface." The fleet's scouting division was now filling the role of Kaela's spies. "Some sort of powerful buried artifact, they believe it could be significant. They are bringing it up to the ship."

"Very well. Ensure the area is secured, and I'll come to look at it personally—"

"—Perhaps you'd elaborate a bit more, Admiral?" Zeliax broke in coolly, frowning at the emperor. Kargil bristled but said nothing. "The nature of the object, its location? The Voltron Force is hardly incapable of setting traps."

Telok looked from his lord to Zeliax, then appeared to decide there was no reason to refuse. "One moment." He typed a message on his command pad, again playing oblivious to the awkward silence that left them in. "Ah, there. They say the wreckage appeared to be some sort of spiderlike structure; the artifact itself is a blinding violet and radiates energy powerful enough to disrupt our portable scanners."

The slightest twitch. "Is that so..."

"That's so. Shall I have them proceed?"

Zeliax was quiet for a long time. Something was bothering him about the admiral's report, that much was certain. And then finally, "No. Leave it there. We don't need it."

"On the contrary." Kargil sneered as the cloaked figure stiffened. "Even if it is a trap, we may be able to turn its power against its creators. They are only human. Weak and stupid creatures on a lucky streak. Place it in an empty ammunition bay; certainly that would be hardened against any potential threat, yes?"

"Yessir."

Watching Telok leave, Zeliax turned on Kargil with lightning dancing in his hands. "What was that, exactly, Emperor? Are you going to need a reminder of precisely who is in charge here?"

Kargil shrugged. "You gave an order, I gave an order. Seems my soldiers still believe they answer to _me_. Maybe you should take it up with them if you don't like their priorities." Before the demon could counter, he swept out after his admiral.

There was an icy rage emanating from him as Serek approached, a rage more than worthy of the Lord of Wrath. "I may do just that," he hissed, then turned to face his remaining companion. "...Come with me, Prince Serek. We need to make sure your father doesn't do anything stupid."

That, Serek was coming to admit, was an awfully demanding task. But what choice did he have? "Of course."


	14. Go Mad From the Revelation

Reawakening  
Chapter 11: Go Mad From the Revelation

* * *

It took about half an hour for the scouts to bring the artifact up to the ship. Telok's description of it had been accurate. Just a large violet sphere, with a bit of steel casing still attached. It was glowing and giving off a somehow unsettling aura... though he had no idea what it might be, Serek's initial impression was that Zeliax had been correct. They didn't need this horrid thing. How could they? Even Telok looked uncomfortable as the emperor approached to examine it.

"How magnificent..."

"Magnificent?" Zeliax scoffed. "It's dangerously unstable, but I suppose if you think risking your own life and fleet is magnificent..." Something wasn't right, though his tone remained calm and contemptuous. There was a hint of agitation in his posture. Serek had learned the ways of a warrior, and he'd trained the infantry. He knew someone trying to hide pain when he saw it, and his thoughts went back to that terrifying moment in the throne room. What force in the galaxy could cause this demon pain?

"There is no glory without the strength to take risks," Kargil answered scornfully, pressing a hand against the smooth surface of the sphere.

It cracked.

Serek actually took a reflexive step forward as the sharp _clink_ echoed through the bay. His father pulled his hand back, startled. The artifact wasn't solid at all; the crack in its outer shell had allowed glowing purple fluid to ooze out, trickling down his arm.

"What in the highest hells? Such power..."

Without warning Zeliax gathered a mass of energy in his hands, a great sphere of lightning and flame, and cast it forward with a thunderclap that echoed through the chamber. Serek barely had time to be horrified before the incredible energies... fizzled out? It was almost as if the artifact behind the emperor soaked up the energy, shielding him from its fury.

Kargil stilled briefly; the attack might actually have frightened him for a moment. But as the elements dissipated he bared his fangs in a wicked grin. "What was _that_ , exactly, human? Don't tell me you're afraid of this power..."

By way of response, the cloaked man cast another blast of energy—this time no recognizable elements, just a shining wave of pure white light. This one worked slightly better. Slightly. The artifact still seemed to nullify the energy, but not before it washed over the emperor and knocked him off his feet. But somehow Serek was pretty certain that was less than the intended effect.

Kargil stayed down for a moment, gasping for breath. Then he sprang to his feet, spun on the artifact, and punched it with all his might. The crack widened, more of the violet substance dripping down. A shockwave erupted a moment later. As it washed over the prince he felt a deep revulsion grip him, only amplified by the cry it drew from the suddenly reeling demon.

"Ah, how quickly the tables turn!" Kargil laughed as Zeliax staggered back, hissing in pain. "Now who is vermin, oh mighty god of wrath? Now who requires whose favor?"

The response came through gritted teeth. "You have no... idea what you're playing with, Kargil! You'll destroy yourself..."

"Is that all you have? I expected better. No, _Zeliax_. A great many things will be destroyed today, but I will not be one of them." He sneered. "Nor will Voltron. Once I've slaughtered the pilots, I will place Voltron on display as my trophy, and you will be chained beside it. To see it so close, and never yours to destroy. Helpless."

Snarling something undoubtedly quite vulgar, Zeliax unleashed a new torrent of energy. This manifested as water—it was surreal, watching it strike the emperor and drive him back a step. A thick layer of ice formed in the water's wake. The power the erstwhile collaborator held was still terrifying... it was simply that Kargil now had something even more terrifying at his disposal. With a roar he shattered the ice and threw Zeliax back.

The battle was interrupted by the bay door swinging open. Sharilar, still moving stiffly from the bandages beneath her robes. "What's going... Emperor? What's happening here?" She pulled up short, staring at the remnants of the artifact. "What is that? We felt some sort of power all the way across the ship..."

"Ah, Witch-Primus!" He sneered. "You're just in time. Behold the future of the Drule Empire, which will succeed where you and your servants have failed!"

"Sire?" She didn't look frightened, only confused, turning her attention on the wreckage. "What are you saying?"

Kargil laughed. "It's very simple, Witch-Primus. I'm saying a new power has been delivered into my hands. And therefore I have no more need of the Circle, and no further need of _you_." His eyes flared violet and he reached one hand out, gathering a bolt of energy that sprang for Sharilar like some ancient banshee.

For all her occult talents, the witch didn't even grasp what was happening in time to defend herself. At the last second she tried, nearly screaming an incantation to project a wall of force in the bolt's path, but the attack was already past the shield by the time it finished forming. The energy slammed into her, consuming her in a wave of purple flame.

Serek was pretty sure she screamed, but he couldn't hear it over the roar of blood in his own ears. This couldn't be happening. Of all the other madness and nightmares this invasion had brought, _this_ could not be happening...

"Father!" He stepped forward past Telok, who was retreating to the door. Probably more intelligent than what he was doing. "Stop this, it's insane! Your own people..."

"She was weak. A constant failure." His father turned to him. "I suggest you be silent, Serek. It would pain me if you turned out to be equally weak."

 _What? He can't mean..._ was this the moment, then? The one Kaela had tried to make him see, the one he'd tried so hard to pretend might not come to pass? Serek gritted his teeth, gathering his courage. If that moment had come, he would not be weak... even if his strength wasn't what his father would want it to be.

"Enough of this!" That hateful artifact. That was the cause of this, and that was what had to go. Fortunately, it had been loaded into the ammunition bay just as the usual compliment of missiles would be. And it was still sitting on the feed track. Serek ran for the wall controls, praying to any god or demon who might be willing to listen at the moment, and hit the manual feed command.

The track screeched and started to move, carrying the artifact along with it for some twenty yards. But then it hit the missile tube and came to a halt. It was just slightly too large to fit through.

 _Lords of Honor, be with me..._

His father glared at him with as much hatred as he'd ever seen. "Stupid boy. I tried so hard to mold you into a proper weapon... no matter. I have no need of other weapons anymore."

Two things happened at once. A vivid purple bolt of energy sprang at Serek, who had no time to even attempt to move. And at the same time a dark silhouette dove in front of him, intercepting the bolt with a horrible scream.

Zeliax?

"Run, Prince Serek." He nearly choked the words. "You have no idea what you're facing, either. There's nothing you can do here."

"Oh, how touching. Did _you_ turn my weakling son against me, then?" Kargil stepped forward, glowing with power. Crouched on one knee, his own power crackling wildly around him, Zeliax cast a burst of wind to try to force the emperor back. Like everything else, the violet energy dampened it, and he laughed madly. "Struggle all you like, heretic! It'll only amuse me more."

"Amused, are you?" The human's voice was still ragged. "And will the rest of your empire... find haggarium as amusing as you do?"

 _What?! No. That can't be true. That can't be..._

Even Kargil pulled up short at those words, turning to face the artifact again. Just for a moment. Then a wicked smile took hold on his face. "...So this is the legendary haggarium? And yet, with such power, that miserable wretch Lotor still somehow failed? I am not so pathetic. Those with the strength to put fear aside will join me in the coming reign of glory. Those who cannot have no place in my Empire!" Sneering as Serek recoiled in horror, he ripped some chain up from the missile track and grabbed Zeliax by the throat. "You can stay here for now. I have a new order to forge."

Serek drew his sword. He had no idea what he intended to do with it, but his father clearly had to be stopped... and besides, that utterly incomprehensible human had saved his life. Honor would not permit that to go unanswered. But before he could make a move someone yanked him back. "No, Highness!" Telok hissed in his ear. "The human bailed you out once, don't do anything else foolish!"

Foolish? How could he even talk about foolishness right now? "Admiral—"

"You _are_ a stupid boy, aren't you? If he's going after Voltron he'll be their problem, so just let him get to it. You do no good provoking him to kill you first. Get out of here!"

He was right, of course he was right. Trying to make his father see sense was a lost cause, and pursuing it like this would not serve the Empire... and Serek had learned his lesson about not listening to such warnings. He needed time. He wasn't quite sure what he would do with _that_ either, but that was why he needed it, to figure out some course of action. There had to be something.

With one last look at his father, Serek turned and ran.

* * *

They'd had a few hours to recover. A quick nap was plenty, right? Sure, the annoying hole in Blue Lion's side begged to differ, but nobody had asked either Larmina or her lion their opinion on the subject.

"Another robeast already? I thought the witch was supposed to be close to dead, not on a production kick." She scowled as they formed up again, heading for the field where they'd detected the new contact. "Not to mention why they didn't just send both at once to begin with?"

"Are you complaining?" Daniel asked.

"I'm not sure this is actually a robeast," Vince said nervously. "It's kind of weird."

"He is correct," Imam agreed. "This energy is very different than the monsters they usually send. Perhaps it will make more sense when we see what we face."

"Maybe," Vince muttered. "Then again, maybe not."

What was waiting for them wasn't some new monstrosity, another freak of nature. It was a dark blue-skinned Drule in heavy armor. He stood a bit taller than Voltron itself, and his hand was flexing on the hilt of a sword at his side. Most disconcerting of all, he seemed very happy to see them approach. _Okay then._

Daniel drew them up short. "Wait, did they decide to do the not an actual robeast thing again? After how well that worked out the last time?"

"I don't think this guy is some expendable lackey." He was powerfully built, and the armor he wore was ornate, not like that junk the giant army had worn. "Maybe he's a robeast and they just ran out of animals?"

"That is possible," Imam agreed. "His signature is well beyond normal biological readings."

Before that discussion could go anywhere else, the enemy answered their questions himself. "Ah, the children finally arrive! I am Kargil, ruler of the Drule Empire, and I am here to take what's mine." He sneered at them, drawing a sword that was nearly dripping with violet energy. "Stand down, insects. Surrender and abandon your lions, and I promise you a swift execution!"

 _Um..._

"...Did he just say he's the emperor?"

"He did. Guess Kaela was right. He's a bit insane."

"A bit? I'd say he's a pretty special kind of insane."

"Oh, this guy's gonna be _way_ more fun than the deranged zookeeper robeasts." Daniel laughed, then opened up Voltron's external comms. "Sorry, man. No can do on the surrender. It's nice to meet you though, we'd heard you were a mindless psychopath, and it's always fun when the bad guys live up to their reputation!"

Vince groaned. "Really, dude?"

"He's just a big Drule armed with a radioactive popsicle, how tough can he be?" Almost before he'd finished speaking, Kargil charged at them with a roar of rage.

"Why do you always have to ask things like that?"

Voltron raised its arms to counter the incoming strike. Larmina frowned as she held her control rods and braced; something about how the emperor was holding the sword wasn't quite right. Did he not know how to use it? Surely that couldn't be it. But he was swinging it wrong, too. It wasn't the edge coming at them but the flat of the blade, and Daniel pushed them forward to make the easy block.

The next moment Larmina felt briefly weightless. Voltron was flying, but not under its own power—the force of the blow had thrown Red and Green high into the air, and the rest of the robot was being dragged helplessly along with them.

"Oh, damn. Come on guys, stabilize!"

"I don't have any control! My systems are resetting."

"Same. All systems failing."

Larmina could feel the others struggling to gain some control of the flight, but there was nothing she could do for it from here. Instead she glanced at her monitors, and immediately regretted it. "Uh, guys? Forget control. Brace yourselves!"

Kargil had leapt into the air after them. As they flailed in midair he locked both fists overhead and slammed them down on Voltron's chest.

The ground came _way_ too fast.

Larmina cried out as they hit, feedback surging in from Blue along with the impact that rattled her own bones. It was a wonder she stayed conscious. And she had no way of knowing if the others had been that lucky... she was halfway through opening her mouth to ask when the Drule loomed up over her main viewscreen.

 _Oh, hells..._

In a move that was admittedly a little bit panicked, she fired off every weapon Blue Lion had available. It turned out she wasn't the only one conscious, or the only one panicked. Sand, fire, wind, and lightning all erupted from the downed robot, accompanied by missiles and lasers and everything else in Voltron's conventional arsenal. The sheer magnitude of firepower obscured Kargil from view for several seconds. Then he simply strode through it, apparently unharmed.

"You've got to be kidding."

"Sir, he is giving off some sort of intense energy. It is not only the sword—"

"—Okay, Ghostman, I'm sure that's gonna be very interesting and important here in a minute, but first hold up and hang onto your teeth!" Daniel wasn't wrong. They hadn't yet regained control and Kargil was on them, lifting Voltron overhead and slamming them back to the earth.

Again it was pretty much all Larmina could do not to lose consciousness. "How are those system resets going, you guys? Kind of need them!" Her own lion wasn't in very good shape on that front either, actually. Blue's consoles were lit up in front of her like an Idrissan lantern festival. She wasn't quite sure when that had happened, but no doubt she'd been busy trying not to crack her skull open. At least he didn't seem to have noticed the hole in her side.

 _That or he just doesn't need to take advantage of it._

"Almost there." Vince sounded dazed, though she supposed she probably had too. "Our power levels are dropping incredibly fast."

"Yes," Bruno agreed. "His proximity makes it worse. Like Imam said. He's completely lit up with some unnatural energy."

"It is nothing we have seen before," Imam added. "At least not that I can recall, and it is very distinctive. Yellow Lion's sensors do not register it as unknown, but the system interference is making a solid reading difficult."

"Good on you for even getting that much," Vince muttered. "Here he comes again!"

This time the emperor raised his sword, but rather than stabbing straight through Voltron like he looked all too ready to, he just barely breached the crest with the blade's tip. Momentary relief gave way to a certainty this would somehow get worse... and then it did. Violet lightning arced out of the blade, shooting through the lions and into the cockpits, and Larmina screamed along with the others as pain erupted all over her body.

 _What the hells is this stuff?_

* * *

Haggarium.

His father, using haggarium.

Serek shook his head, still reeling as he paced the silent bridge, watching the battle. He couldn't fathom this. Everyone in the Drule Empire knew about haggarium. How the mad King Lotor had sacrificed the bulk of his warfleet to the chaotic maw of the Haggarian Quasar, to be torn apart and reduced to the hateful essence which had powered his madness. How when he ran out of soldiers willing to be duped he'd turned to conscripting civilians, claiming their 'contribution' would bring the empire to glory.

Tens of thousands of innocent Drules had been thrown into that quasar like so much garbage. Maybe hundreds of thousands; Lotor hadn't really been big on keeping records. Their lives had fueled the insanity which sent the empire into a death spiral, taken them three and a half centuries to recover from.

And now his father was gleefully using that same power.

 _He's mad. Kaela was right, you just refused to accept it. And now his madness will bring your people to ruin, just as King Lotor's did before him. The people you've sworn to protect to your dying breath._

It was true, and agonizingly so. But Serek didn't know what to _do_.

But he knew someone who did.

Zeliax. He'd known, hadn't he? He'd known from the start that the relic must be haggarium, tried to prevent them from bringing it aboard. If he'd studied the Empire and Voltron so thoroughly, he must know of that dark power which had been integral to their last war.

He rushed for the ammunition bay. The human was still there; his father had chained him up inside of the artifact's wreckage, though most of the haggarium was gone now. Only a few lingering violet pools glowed around him. Still, he was slumped over in obvious pain.

"Lord Zeliax!" Serek swallowed hard, steeling himself, then moved closer and pulled on the chains. They had a good bit of slack, thank all the Six Houses... he couldn't completely free him from the presence of the vile substance, but he could at least get some distance.

That distance seemed to help immediately; Zeliax managed to stand up in his chains. "Prince Serek." His voice was rough, but the surprise was clear. "What... are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? The haggarium!" His voice was almost pleading, but this was no time for dignity anymore, was it? "You... you knew it. You must have studied it, you must know how to counter its power!"

The human cocked his head. "Your people _haven't_ studied it? After all the hells it put you through?"

"Of course not. The Wardens declared it unspeakable; its powers of corruption were too great."

Zeliax considered this for a long time, or at least it felt like a long time. It might've been seconds, as fast as Serek's heart was racing. It might as well have been hours.

"...I cannot help."

"What? But you—"

"I know what must be done." There was a note of frustration in his voice. "But neither you nor the Voltron Force is capable of doing it. Not without my direct intervention. And I can't get out of these chains, not with..." He gestured to the haggarium.

Serek's eyes narrowed, studying the chains. They were quite simple, really, not built for imprisonment. He had no doubt his father would have left some extra deterrents in place, but the chains themselves? Trivial. With just a little bit of time his sword would cut right through the heavy steel.

 _You have no choice. This is the only way. Whatever you have to sacrifice here, it's better than letting your father return to destroy the homeworlds._

"Then I will break them."

"...You realize he's put security measures in place," Zeliax said quietly. "Explosives. You'll die."

He started filing away at the first of the three chains. "Will you?" Surely he couldn't. Not with everything else he'd been able to withstand.

A brief hesitation. "No."

"Then I don't care." Serek kept working on the chain. "This is the only way. I've seen my father's madness... later than I should have, but I've seen it. He disgraces the Drule Empire, and will lead us to damnation." His eyes glowed bright, nearly blinding. "I swore to protect my people. Releasing you is my last chance to do so."

Frown. "What makes you think I won't kill your people myself? If your fleet supports him, they'll only be in the way. The survival of your empire is the least of my concerns."

"I'm aware." Nearly through one chain, he moved on to the next—best to get each to the breaking point before taking his chances severing any. _Whatever sacrifices must be made. Even if it means the blind ones who enabled this insanity... as I was the blindest of all_. "Every time my people seek conquest, it leads us to ruin. Maybe if you destroy the fleet you'll be doing us a favor. Maybe if we would stop worrying about warfare and glory, the homeworlds could thrive. Maybe..." Another chain hanging by a thread. He moved to the last. "Our goals align. Even if you don't care about mine. I'll make this sacrifice, and make it gladly."

If he hadn't known better, he would have thought there was a note of sorrow in Zeliax's voice. "You're a fool."

"I know." Maybe if he hadn't been such a fool they wouldn't be in this mess. But it was too late for that. He finished with the last chain, studied his work. One good twist and they would all break, and Zeliax would be free, and he...

Well...

 _To die in the service of the Empire is an honor._

Serek closed his eyes, taking one last, long breath. How exactly did one prepare for death when it was so certain as flipping the proverbial switch? He'd never feared in combat. But in combat he wasn't the one pulling the trigger on his own life. The only answer was not to think—to take one last look around this world, and...

He pulled.

The roar was deafening, incomprehensible. Concussive waves slammed into him from all sides, but it was the fire engulfing him that made him scream for the instant he could. The next, superheated air rushing down his throat ripped his voice from him and he fell, the metal of the bay floor burning his skin further. _Lords of Honor, have mercy_...

It wasn't the Lords of Honor who came to his side, but a very different god.

Zeliax was moving, beating the flames back, the destructive force of the blast no match for whatever power it was that he held. His cowl had burnt away; Serek squinted through blurred eyes, struggling against the haze. To at least see the face of this enigma who'd won his faith, foolish as it may have been.

"Prince Serek..." The slim form knelt beside him. Zeliax's eyes were filled with conflicting emotion; scorn, pity, disbelief, and perhaps even sadness warred within them. Or perhaps that last was just wishful thinking on his own part. His unmasked features were nothing spectacular. Just a human, though surprisingly young. Yet there was something about him that was vaguely familiar, and then realization struck.

 _...No. How?_

Serek blinked. His mind was superimposing another face over Zeliax's. One he'd seen in the pages of history texts, a memory the Drule Empire looked upon with hatred and fear... no, it couldn't be. What he was seeing could only be an illusion born of his impending death, a mirage of smoke and agony. Couldn't it?

 _What are you..._

He tried to speak. But the words wouldn't come out of his charred throat, only a pitiful rasp. Light was fading, agonizingly slowly. He had survived the initial blast, but there would be no miracles here.

"…Stay still," Zeliax murmured, pulling a knife from what was left of his scorched armor. "I will pay my debts, I won't leave you like this."

What that meant was clear enough. Serek managed the slightest nod. Accepting this fate for what it was. He'd made his choice. What happened now was out of his hands... all he could do was hope that his faith might be justified. And if this heartless creature meant to end his suffering, that could only be a good sign, couldn't it?

A sharp pain quenched the fires.

* * *

It took some time for the pain to fade; damage to Voltron itself was minimal. Bruno shuddered and shook out his fur as the inferno that had consumed his cockpit subsided. _There's no end to their affronts to nature_.

They needed time and space, and Kargil wasn't too inclined to give them either. But that attack had made it clear the emperor was toying with them. Not a good thing, but better than the alternative. History was full of examples of such arrogance backfiring. There must be a way here.

"This guy wants Voltron as a shiny trophy," Daniel snarled, apparently having come to the same conclusion. "Not happening. Let's turn this around."

"Easier said than done," Larmina pointed out. "Any ideas?"

"Matter of fact, yes." As their leader spoke Bruno felt a familiar sense of presence gathering in the back of his mind. _Going with that again?_ He wasn't entirely certain it was wise to strain themselves or Voltron like this, but it wasn't as though he had any better ideas. "Get ready, we're moving—"

Another impact cut him off, and the presence faded as Voltron tumbled along the ground. "We don't have enough power for that either," Vince reported a little unnecessarily. "At this rate we'll be totally dry in a matter of minutes."

"Anything you can do to get us some space?"

"Why is it always me?"

"Because you're the Magic Man, obviously."

The Red Lion pilot gave a long-suffering sigh. "Obviously. Okay, let me give it a shot..." A burst of energy crackled through Voltron, and Bruno saw his power readings jump slightly. They would need a lot more than that to get out of this mess, though.

"It's working!"

"Not really." Vince's voice was strained. "The Nexus is already giving us almost everything it's got. I think I can get us a little more of a jump, but someone else better be ready to do something with it."

 _And there lies the real issue_. Bruno looked up at Kargil, who was advancing on them with his sword leveled. The air around him was actually rippling with his power, like a heat mirage... _wait_. There was something in that thought. He ran his paw over Green Lion's ECM controls, growling thoughtfully. A mirage. He'd been assuming his electronic warfare capabilities were no use against biological eyes, but that wasn't right, was it? Anyone could be susceptible to an illusion.

He felt Green's presence, a whisper of approval. If she was with him it had to be possible, he just had to figure out how to translate it...

 _Life_.

It all became so clear so quickly. "Do it, Vince. I have an idea. But I'm not sure how much time it'll buy us. Be ready to move." Keeping one hand steady on the ECM panel he closed his eyes, letting Green guide him. The mad emperor was an abomination, but he was still alive. He was within their domain.

Another energy surge raced through Voltron, this one far more powerful. _Now_. Triggering both Green's sonic beacon and her jamming systems, he could feel the wave of disruptive energies reach out for the enemy. He was in sync with those energies, in sync with Voltron, and for a single agonizing second he found himself in sync with Kargil as well.

 _What is that?!_

Bruno recoiled with a howl of pain, lashing out in his mind against the roiling mass of chaos he'd come into contact with. That hadn't gone as he'd hoped... but while things hadn't gone quite as planned, his mental flailing still had the effect he'd meant for his focus to have. For an instant he could feel it, the mechanical confusion of Green Lion's ECM attacks sinking into the emperor's mind. The next second the wild energies he'd been attuned to faded, returning him to his senses in the cockpit.

He was pretty sure he felt some concern from his lion. "I'm okay, Green. Mostly." He shook his head to try to clear it. If she hadn't gotten him out of there so quickly, he might've been much less okay. "Thank you."

Looking up he saw they'd moved, retreating far from the emperor. Voltron's power levels were stabilizing. Kargil himself was holding his ears and snarling, looking around blindly.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked. "It's like he can't even see us."

"He can't. We need to take advantage."

"Got it. Form..." Then the words trailed off. "...Can we actually do any damage if we hit him?"

"No," Vince and Imam answered in unison.

"Okay, then not so much on the forming Blazing Sword. We need to recharge somehow."

Engineering was not one of Daniel's great loves, and he didn't make any big secret of it. Fortunately, there were other people willing to tell him what he should have learned in class.

"If you remember, sir, Voltron recharges from the power of the elements. Though at our current level, returning to full power—such as it is—from the ambient elements will take far too long to be feasible."

"...Sure! I knew that. Um, any advice, Lance?"

"Oh, _now_ you want my help." Their commander's voice had a hint of amusement beneath its concern. "You can get a jump from any of the dens."

"Let's go to Blue's," Larmina suggested. "If he tracks us down he might have less of an advantage underwater."

"Good call. Don't take too long, though. No telling what he'll do when his great prize goes missing on him."

"Right." Daniel pushed them forward as quickly as Voltron could move, racing out of Kargil's sight and jumping into the lake. "Guess we'll have a little time to figure out what we're doing after the Voltron wash and recharge, then."

Bruno let out a sigh, realizing how much he'd tensed up as his muscles finally relaxed. Here they were again. Confused, desperate, staring defeat in the face and looking for a miracle. But alive. As long as they were alive, they had hope... it was something. It had to be enough.

* * *

"Still nothing, Lance?"

"Nope. He's just standing there waiting. It's you guys he wants first, I guess... still, don't think I'd push your luck too much. Or maybe it's more like you shouldn't push _my_ luck."

Even Vince couldn't help snickering a little at that, though he was fighting the urge to lapse into the usual pessimism. Voltron had regained its normal level of power in the last fifteen minutes, kickstarted by the energy of Blue Lion's den. But there was still that one minor detail that Kargil had thrown them around just fine at full power too. "So what's the plan?"

"We play keep away," Daniel suggested. "He's tough. But he may or may not be fast, and we've got ranged weapons."

"Are we sure he doesn't?"

"Won't know until we give it a try."

"Yes," Bruno agreed. "We can't stay here much longer. Let's go."

Vince had a few expectations for what would happen when Voltron left the water and returned to the Academy complex. Kargil might be there waiting to ambush them, the Drule fleet might have fixed on their position, or any other manner of unpleasant things might have turned up in the meantime. What he didn't expect was for his comms console to light up. "Incoming transmission...?"

"Yeah, I'm getting it too."

"It appears to be coming in under an Imperial signature."

"Weird." His eyes narrowed as a secondary monitor came up, flooded with numbers and diagrams. "It's... it's some sort of data dump. A chemical study? Molecular structure, matter composition, energy signature... I don't understand..." There was an odd sensation in the back of his mind. He didn't understand _himself_ , no. But Red Lion seemed to understand. In fact, his lion actually found this data familiar.

Bruno growled. "No doubt a distraction. Stay focused, Vince."

"No, this is... it's important, somehow..." He closed his eyes for a moment, letting energy spark within him, laying his hands on the consoles. "Okay, Big Red. If you trust this, I'll trust this. Lance, can the castle's systems make any more sense of this data, you think?"

"Send it on over, I'll give it a try. Also you've got a crazy emperor moving in on your position, probably about five minutes out."

Larmina's tone was perfectly flat. "Oh, yay."

As Voltron braced, waiting for Kargil to come into view, Vince kept an eye on the data that had come in. It was actually fascinating. Would've been more fascinating if it weren't in the process of _killing_ them, but hey. It was mostly a chaotic mess, but there was something... there were vulnerabilities in it. Not patterns, exactly. Weak points that could be exploited. Running an analysis his eyes widened; the oddities he was seeing were perfectly opposed to the energy Voltron itself used. And then it all made sense.

 _It's all power. This stuff nullifies our energy, and ours nullifies it in return... but he has so much_ more _of it._ That last realization was all too clear. "This data is for whatever energy Kargil's pumped up with."

"Yeah, and wait until you hear what it is." Lance sounded dumbfounded. "I was really hoping the uncanny resemblance was a coincidence, considering it's completely _impossible_ , but... things just got real, kids. You're dealing with haggarium."

Haggarium. His breath caught in his throat, and he heard similar gasps over the comms from the others. The essence of chaos and madness, concentrated evil in its purest form... the dark power Voltron was supposed to have put an end to centuries ago.

"How can that be, Commander?"

"I have no damn idea."

"He found it on Arus," a new voice broke in. It was coming only over the lions' comms, and it was very familiar. _Is that...?_ "Not all the hidden wreckage from the last war was fully neutralized, apparently."

Vince blinked, seeking out the source of the signal. A shadowy figure was crouched on the roof of the academy hangar, head turned towards Kargil's approach. His black armor was battered and scorched, revealing the metal reinforcing it in several places, and the tattered cloak no longer had the hood and mask attached.

"...Zeliax?"

For a moment the strange man turned to face Voltron, eyes narrowed. _Wait, what?_ It didn't make any sense. He looked human, which they'd assumed, yes... but he was so _young_. He couldn't have been much older than the cadets themselves. As he nodded to them he turned away again, wild brown hair whipping in the wind. "It seems I'll be saving you again. You've seen the information I sent, you understand how it works? I'd expect at least the red cub to have figured it out by now."

Daniel started to snarl an undoubtedly hostile response, but Vince decided this was a good time to override him. "I can see the way it counteracts, sure. But we don't have the kind of power it would take to exploit it, this guy's practically _dripping_ with haggarium."

"Of course." A pale nimbus of energy flared into being around Zeliax, and Vince's eyes widened. "Not on your own."

 _That power..._

Even if he hadn't recognized the sight, Vince could _feel_ the truth of that aura. It wasn't the elemental energy he'd wielded in the Chaos Realm, but something deeper. Something pure and raw, almost primal. And most of all, something incredibly familiar—and not only because he'd just been studying its signature.

 _But... how is that possible?_

Before he could say anything Kargil appeared in the distance, charging with his sword raised. "What do we do now, sir?" Imam asked as they braced. "Continue with the original plan, or should we alter it for the fiend's presence?"

A hesitation. "Much as I'd like to say the jerk's on his own, we can use all the help we can get. But we won't be any use if we just get drained again, so—"

The glow around Zeliax suddenly intensified, and Vince's jaw dropped as his readings skyrocketed. "—Hold that thought, Daniel. We're at full power!"

"Uh, isn't that why we left the lake?"

"I don't mean our usual full power. I mean _full_ full power."

In their moment of distraction Kargil was on them, swinging his sword as a web of violet lightning gathered around it. Reflexively they moved Voltron to block, despite everything that had happened so far in this battle. And this time the haggarium sword stopped dead in Red and Green Lions' jaws.

"Did that just happen?"

"That totally just happened."

"Amazing..."

"Don't get cocky," Lance ordered. "Less cheering, more fighting. Haggarium is still haggarium."

Fair point. Voltron's power was fluctuating just from being in contact with the sword; they pushed the emperor back and he retreated, eyes smoldering. "How? You dare to defy the Emperor of the Drules? Now your deaths will be _painful_." He was probably about to say something else pretentious, too, but then the spark atop the hangar caught his eye. "... _You!_ How many rounds of pest control must I carry out?" He swung his sword again, this time firing an arc of seething energy that tore straight through the building.

Immediately Voltron's power levels dropped back to normal. Okay, so whatever Zeliax had done to them was temporary. "Looks like he's channeling energy to us. We need to keep Kargil's attention off him if we want to stay at full strength." _Assuming he lived through that._ Somehow after the Chaos Realm, even Vince wasn't quite cynical enough to doubt he had. Sure enough, the rubble of the hangar exploded into a whirlwind of debris that slammed full on into the emperor. It didn't seem to have much of an effect, at least as damage went... but it certainly managed to piss him off.

With a roar of fury, Kargil completely forgot about the _giant robot_ behind him in favor of his own supposed ally, and Zeliax dropped to his knees beneath a powerful haggarium blast.

"Might need to rethink that plan," Bruno observed, totally deadpan. "I don't think they like each other."

"Yeah, kind of getting that impression," Daniel agreed. "But hey, if Emperor Nutcase wants to stay busy with Mysterious Jerkface, more power to him. Let's take advantage of it. Give him everything we've got!"

Once again, Voltron unleashed its full arsenal on the ruler of the Drule Empire. Elemental energy washed over him as lasers and plasma lanced into his back, and missiles exploded all over his armor. This time he staggered under the assault—a flare of white light in front of him told them Zeliax was attacking too. "Keep it up!"

"ENOUGH!" Kargil bellowed, striking his sword hard on the asphalt and creating a burst of violet light. "You mock the Empire by insulting the Emperor, and your insolence will not stand!" A shockwave erupted from the crater. It threw Zeliax several hundred feet across the complex then slammed into Voltron, bypassing the lions' armor to send waves of pain through their cockpits.

All Vince could do was scream.

* * *

 _Keep it together. Keep it together!_

As Daniel fought off the pain of the haggarium blast, Kargil stormed forward again, reaching out and seizing Voltron by the throat. "Children," he sneered, alarms howling as his fingers pierced their thin neck armor. His hateful gaze met Daniel's through the cockpit glass. "The Alliance thought to counter my might with _children_. I'll have your decaying corpses borne on pikes when I accept their surrender!"

 _Sheesh, this guy's ego is bigger than he is._

Something in the flare of the emperor's eyes told Daniel to duck. And maybe pray. He wasn't super big on praying, but he _was_ piloting a robot made out of five demigod lions... a split second after he moved Kargil's fist crashed into Voltron's face, and a shower of exploding glass rained down on him. "You can't run from me, insect!" Two huge blue fingers reached in through the shattered eye sockets, groping for him, and he dove under the main console to dodge.

 _Bad, bad, bad..._

 _Hold on just a damn minute. No way am I just gonna sit here and take this._

Eyes narrowing as his heart raced, Daniel called up his claws and slashed at the nearest fingertip. "You get the _hell_ out of my cockpit, Blueboy!"

To his own intense shock, the emperor actually withdrew with a howl of pain, dark blood splattering over Black's consoles. "How dare you?"

"Daring is kind of my gig!" Of course he still had to somehow get them out of this mess, but... an idea sprang to mind, and without any further thought on the subject he popped up and yanked a lever.

As Kargil swung his fist again, Black Lion's lower jaw closed, hiding Voltron's damaged face behind the lion's snarling fangs. The punch still connected... but this time it definitely hurt the emperor more than it hurt him. A moment later they lurched. He didn't even have his hands on the movement controls yet, but they were launching into the air in an incredibly unbalanced trajectory, driven purely by Blue and Yellow Lions.

"Whoa! ...Nice move, you guys."

"You're welcome, hotshot!"

"Are you alright, sir?"

"The thanks was implied! ...And I'm okay." He wrinkled his nose at the blood all over his seat and consoles, and after a moment's thought called his armor before sitting down. "A little freaked out," _way more than a little freaked out,_ "but okay. What's our power like?"

"It took a hit, but it's recovering," Vince reported. "...No, scratch that, we're back up to full."

Zeliax's voice came through again. "You need to end this, and you need to do it _now_." He was standing on what had once been the Academy parade ground, burning with that pale energy again. "At this rate he'll actually kill one of you."

Though Daniel desperately wanted to ask why he cared, he supposed this wasn't the time. The emperor was charging for the parade ground too, apparently having decided if he couldn't reach Voltron he would get the other enemy out of the way. Good tactics. Except for the part where he was once again turning his back on the now _fully powered_ giant robot.

"Okay. It's officially the appropriate time for this." He clenched his fists tight around the control rods. "Form Blazing Sword!"

The sword formed, alright. Formed alight with a power they'd never managed to produce before, more brilliant than any ancient holovid or gaming special effect had ever seemed to render it. Daniel's breath caught, and from the way their limbs briefly froze he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one stunned.

 _This is what Voltron is supposed to be_...

A slow grin spread across his face. That wasn't right, of course. This was a very serious battle against a very serious enemy, with the fate of Arus and the galaxy hanging in the balance. Not to mention the fact that the Drule emperor had just come uncomfortably close to squashing him like a grape. He had no damn business grinning like a loon right now. And yet he was.

"Let's do this!"

He was actually pretty sure he wasn't the only person enjoying this, either. Flying had never felt like this before. Voltron moved so smoothly, cutting through the sky, bearing down on Kargil like a thunderbolt from the heavens.

The emperor heard them coming. Or maybe he just sensed them. Either way he spun at the last possible second, just in time for the Blazing Sword to thrust forward and pierce his chest in a blinding burst of light.

"N... no! This can't... this cannot be!" Kargil lashed out with a flurry of chaos power, leveling the buildings all around them, striking Voltron with several bolts but not doing any real damage. "I am Kargil, Emperor of the Drules... I am..."

"You are _loud_ ," Larmina snapped, and Voltron quite literally drop-kicked him off of the Blazing Sword. He sailed impressively, trailing blood through the sky, landing in a heap on the far side of the complex. And an enormous explosion of violet light shook the earth.

"...It's over," Vince whispered as the roar of the explosion faded. "Nothing left but residual energy signatures. He's gone."

 _He's gone..._

The comms filled with cheers, triumphant yells, even a sharp whistle that he was pretty sure came from the control room rather than any of the lions.

"We did it!"

"The madness is ended."

"Kiss our asses, Drule Empire!"

"Why would you want them to do that? It sounds unpleasant for all involved."

"It's just an expression, Imam..."

The celebration was cut off as a burst of energy struck Voltron's side. Struck, but didn't seem to do any damage. Daniel blinked, spinning them around to see Zeliax standing there, pouring a solid stream of pale energy into the robot's chest. Definitely no damage, but it was at least making it clear enough whose side he was on... for a few seconds the energy burst continued, then he drew back, looking frustrated and furious at once.

"Power levels are back to normal. Looks like the teamwork is over."

"He's got to be kidding."

"He does not seem to be." Imam addressed the cloaked figure as he dropped back further. "Fiend, will you still not reconsider? You did just aid us in killing the very tyrant you were working for. Why continue this battle now?"

"I'm not sure if you noticed, cubs, but the Emperor and I had our working relationship... compromised. I had more to fear from him than you did." He shook his head. "Nothing else has changed."

 _More to fear than we did? Were we having the same battle there?_ Daniel had so many questions. And if _he_ had questions he could only imagine what his more curious teammates were thinking. But it didn't matter anymore. _You know what they say about curiosity and cats. If he's going to insist..._

He leveled their blade at the enemy. "Then we'll end this now."

"...Go ahead and try."

The Blazing Sword looked very impressive, aimed as it was at the heart of their foe, but such a weapon wasn't really made to zero in on such a small target. As Voltron thrust the blade forward its path wavered, just slightly, passing harmlessly beside Zeliax and gouging a deep scar in the earth.

"Daniel. Might not be the time to be fancy." Bruno sounded a bit frustrated. "Just have Vince fry him."

"Works for me. Have at it, Magic Man!" Voltron banished the sword and raised its right arm, sending a massive gout of flame at the enemy. There would be no dodging _that_.

He didn't even try. Just stood there, bathed in fire, watching them calmly as his armor glowed white-hot.

"What the...?"

"How the hell is he doing that?"

"He is absorbing the energy of the flames, sir." Imam paused for a moment, the sound of his fingers flying over his consoles clearly audible in the background. "...More than that. He is absorbing Voltron's own power, but he is also giving off a similar power, which Voltron is drawing in. We are in a stable feedback loop."

"Of course we are," Daniel grumbled as the flames dissipated, leaving their target standing in significantly more scorched armor but unharmed. "I know Kargil was more dangerous, but holy cats Zeliax is more _annoying_."

"...Daniel," Lance broke in, his tone suddenly dead serious. "Is _that_ Zeliax? That's the collaborator who's been giving us hell all this time?"

Frown. He supposed this was the first time the boss would have gotten a good look at this enemy; the haggarium and giant Drule and fire and stuff would have all been pretty distracting. "Yeah, why?"

"Fall back."

Wait, what? That had to have been his imagination. Lance had not seriously just told them to fall back, had he? It was ridiculous. "Don't worry, we've got this. He may suck up our power, but we can still squash him like a bug!" To illustrate his point, he moved Voltron forward, raising its damaged right leg for a killing stomp. Which missed.

"Damn it, Daniel, stop screwing around. Get back here. _Now_. You have no idea what you're dealing with out there!"

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He'd never heard the boss sound quite so unnerved... including when he'd told them about the haggarium. It seemed absurd. But when had he ever actually been wrong? Besides, Voltron _was_ a mess right now, and he supposed they weren't really accomplishing anything like this.

Also he was still sitting in a puddle of Drule blood. Getting out of that would be nice.

"...Okay guys, we're gone."

He noticed something as they retreated, though his conscious mind didn't quite stop to work through it. It was more of a fleeting fragment of thought, something that would make sense later when all the pieces fell into place. For now it was just a passing curiosity.

Something about Zeliax was very familiar... and the armor sheathing his right forearm looked oddly like a voltcom.

* * *

As soon as he was sure the Force was actually retreating, Lance was running. It was stupid; he vaguely registered that fact as he sprinted for the doors of the castle. He was going out there unarmed to face someone who'd been their enemy all this time, someone he'd just seen take a full barrage from Voltron itself and remain standing.

But how could he not? If he'd seen what he thought he'd seen, what he was _certain_ he'd seen...

Zeliax was still standing on the parade ground, just watching in the wake of Voltron's retreat. Almost as if he were waiting for something. Or someone.

 _He would be, wouldn't he?_

Yes, he was waiting. He stepped forward as Lance reached the edge of the parade ground. A wind was picking up, whipping the scorched cloak around him as he approached. Appropriate. Possibly not coincidental. It was all Lance could do to keep his pace even, his breathing calm. Was the wind as cold as it seemed, or was it just the ice crawling down his spine?

The young man stopped a few feet away, looking over him for several very long seconds before meeting his gaze. "Hello, Lance."

There was no mistaking it. The glasses were gone, the innocent features twisted with hate, the black steel encasing his wrist no longer glowing with green light. And yet, and _yet_... a pang shot through Lance as he met those emerald eyes. Once so warm and filled with joy, now ice cold and narrowed with malice.

It couldn't be.

It was.

"Pidge..."


	15. Truth of the Matter

Reawakening  
Chapter 12: Truth of the Matter

* * *

It felt like the world had stopped. A vise was gripping Lance's guts, a fog in his mind trying to convince him this whole day was some insane nightmare. First the haggarium. Hadn't that been bad enough? And yet the image in front of him wasn't changing. It was Pidge, standing there in that ravaged armor like some war-torn ghost.

A vengeful ghost, if his expression was any hint.

"I was wondering if you'd come out to say hello." Those brilliant eyes glinted with contempt, his voice sharp and cold. "Or if you'd just leave me to play with your cubs... they're barely competent, you know. I would have expected you to have higher standards."

Lance bristled against the hostility, letting it sharpen his mind against the shock. Were it anyone else, in any other situation, he probably would have thrown a punch. But he hadn't come out here for a fight—he'd come for answers, and he was for damn sure going to get them. "...I don't even know what to ask first. How you can possibly be here, or what the hell you think you're doing."

"Both entirely reasonable questions." Pidge crossed his arms. "What makes you think I'll answer either one?"

There were several answers he could've given there. Answers about how the young man _owed_ him an explanation. Answers about how they'd fought beside each other for years, how Pidge was supposed to have been dead since Galra, let alone now. Answers that invoked the bond of two warriors who had been brothers in arms, who shouldn't find themselves on opposite sides of this battle.

None of those answers came out. "How about because you love to hear yourself talk?"

"Oh!" He gave a harsh laugh. "So _now_ you want to listen to me... funny how things change, isn't it?"

"I don't see anything funny about this at all." Lance's thoughts were racing, trying to imagine what he could be missing. Clearly they'd been wrong about his death, but how? None of them had seen it, there had been no remains... but after searching the wreckage for any signs of life, the only conclusion was that he'd been vaporized like so many others. What had they missed? Had the Drules instead captured him before the blast, returned him to their homeworlds to torture and turn? The Alliance weren't the only ones with stasis technology. The Empire could have been waiting for this day just as he had, secure in the power of their secret weapon...

It was an absurd thought, and left as many questions unanswered as it answered. But how else to explain the impossible?

"...No, I suppose you're right," Pidge agreed softly, looking at him with a mix of sorrow and rage. "Though as usual you really know nothing about it."

That anger... "I know you've been working with the Drules. I know you've helped them nearly destroy Voltron. What more do I need, exactly? Enlighten me!"

"And still so demanding. I've almost missed it..." He looked away, toying with the ragged edge of his cloak. "I had to see if you'd changed. I'm glad you haven't." For a moment his tone had almost become affectionate, but then he raised his head again, his whole demeanor seized in malice. "You're still an intractable jackass!"

Lance fought down the impulse to throw that punch anyway. "Says the traitor?"

"Traitor." Pidge's eyes flared with emerald light, and a sudden surge in the wind forced Lance to stumble back. "I have betrayed _no one_ who didn't betray me first. But how could you understand? You were hidden away in your stasis cocoon by people who still cared." He clenched his fists. "So fortunate for you. You've been _sleeping_ all these years."

 _What?_ That made even less sense. "And... you haven't been?"

"I wouldn't be so lucky." A short, bitter laugh. "Do you remember the truth, Lance? Or did you dream it away and replace it with the sanitized garbage the Alliance taught your brats?" He took a step back himself, eyes suddenly distant. "The Nexus overload. Did you think that was a coincidence?"

Lance hesitated. Of course he remembered. The old, painful truth... the truth he'd been resisting explaining to the cubs, the reality of the battle which hadn't been fit for public consumption. They'd agreed on that afterward, the four survivors of the Voltron Force. Agreed that the world didn't need to know what had really happened on Galra. Oh, he _wished_ he could've forgotten it, but he hadn't.

He knew...

"What are you telling me, Pidge?"

"He was already dead." His voice was suddenly low, the cold rage replaced with an almost frantic pain. Maybe even fear. "I made it, I made it into the palace, but I was too late, it was on a delay, he was already dead..." Energy flared around him, driving Lance back a few more paces. "But _they_ were still there. We'd abandoned them but they were still there. Just waiting. Ready to strike. I called to them..." His eyes lit with wonder. "I gave up my body to be their conduit."

His words didn't make a whole lot of sense, though Lance could put bits and pieces of it together. And what seemed to be at the heart of it wasn't possible, couldn't be possible. Sure, Pidge had known more about Voltron than any of them, but he couldn't really be saying... " _You_ caused the overload?"

"I did..." The wonder in his eyes turned back to ice in an instant. "It was supposed to kill me, it was supposed to end it! But it didn't. It did the opposite." The energy swirling around him began to coalesce into tendrils of vivid colors, the colors of the lions. "That missing part of Voltron's power that you've been looking for? It's been right here all along... trapped inside of _me_."

 _No._

There was only one way to interpret what he was saying, but it was still impossible, still too much to accept. "You..."

"I haven't changed since that moment. I don't age, I don't get sick, I can't be injured... I can't _die_. Not for lack of effort, I assure you." Pidge's voice took on a deadly note. "Three hundred and fifty _years_ , Lance! Watching. Waiting. Knowing you would have to wake eventually, Voltron would have to return... knowing that destroying it is my only way out."

"You can just forget about that!" A voice from behind him cut off any response Lance might have made to that, not that one was really forthcoming to begin with. He was reeling, pulled in too many directions at once, and for once Daniel's impulsiveness was a welcome distraction.

A volley of lightning talons ripped through the air just past Lance's arm, drilling into Pidge's chestplate and sending electricity arcing through the metal. It was an impressive light show, but not much else; Pidge raised his head and gave Daniel a bored look. "Call off your cubs, Lance. I'm not here to take the lives of children."

Larmina darted forward and swung her staff, which flickered and dissipated on impact. "Shut up, you—"

"—Back off, all of you." Lance didn't look at them; he didn't quite dare turn his back on the threat. _The threat._ Was Pidge really a threat here, like this? It didn't seem so, and it ached to even think of him like that. This was _wrong_. Everything about this was wrong! All this time he'd been wishing he could somehow have just one glimpse of the lost past, and here it had arrived as madness.

The kids had fallen back but not fully retreated. Truthfully he wasn't sure he wanted them there. This wasn't their place, it was too personal, too painful. It looked like Pidge shared that opinion; his eyes narrowed as he looked over them, but he seemed to decide it wasn't worth pursuing. "Fine. Stay if you want. You'll make no difference." He returned his gaze to Lance. "Nothing you do will make any difference against me, in the end. You know that."

 _He always could be so arrogant... and he was always right, damn him anyway._ "I refuse to accept that. _You_ shouldn't be willing to accept that! Listen to yourself, Pidge! You're going to destroy Voltron for this? Because you were hurt?"

"Because I was hurt?" he hissed, a new wave of anger taking hold. "Hurt? You think you can reduce this to being _hurt?_ How about because that cursed scrap heap sentenced me to hell!"

Lance stared, not quite able to believe he'd heard those words. _You who practically lived in the hangar, you who loved working on that 'cursed scrap heap' more than anything..._ "And if you destroy it? What happens after that, Pidge? What about the Alliance?"

"The Alliance can burn. What will it matter? What were they ever good for except hiding behind the Force, watching us fight their battles?"

He hesitated. He couldn't very well admit that Pidge had a point there, but... "You swore your life to them."

"No!" Another surge of energy erupted around him. "I gave them the oath they asked for, and they broke their side of it, the same way they did for all of us. I swore my life to something greater." The hatred in his eyes was somehow still visible through the white light gathered there. "I swore myself to the team. I sacrificed _everything_ for you. And then you abandoned me on that obliterated rock! Don't you _dare_ talk to me about loyalty!"

Abandoned him? "We didn't abandon you! We scoured every inch of the battlefield for _days_ to find some sign of you, we did everything short of sifting through the damn ashes—"

"—WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD'VE TRIED THAT!" This time the surge that accompanied the scream wasn't an uncontrolled burst. A whirl of colored energy sprang for him like a serpent, and Lance suddenly realized just how badly his reflexes had faded on him as he tried to dodge and stumbled.

 _Oh, this is gonna hurt..._

The next thing he knew the entire Force was in front of him, Imam and Daniel both dropping to their knees as they intercepted the strike. Larmina and Bruno had dropped into combat stances, while Vince was standing at the front of the group, ablaze with his own energy.

"That's _enough!"_

Impressive as that sight was, Pidge wasn't even looking at him. He was staring at Lance, horror overwhelming the fury on his face. "...You're right, red cub." His voice nearly broke. "There's nothing to be accomplished like this..."

 _Gods_... Lance swallowed hard. He couldn't grasp what Pidge had to be feeling, not least because Pidge didn't seem to know himself. For that matter Lance still hadn't sorted out what _he_ felt either. Anger and anguish were warring for control of his mind, leaving denial all he could really hold onto. _This can't be the future I slept so long to protect. This can't be the war I woke up to fight!_

He climbed back to his feet, fighting for every shallow breath. "It doesn't have to be this way, Pidge."

The energy in those emerald eyes faded and he turned away from them, fists clenched, his body visibly shaking. "...I wish you were right, Lance. I do." He looked back over his shoulder for a moment. "I'm going to leave now. But make no mistake..." He turned again. "...nothing will stop me from doing what I must. _Nothing_." And with that he stepped away and vanished into the shadows.

"Pidge!"

Silence fell over the parade ground, the cold wind giving way to absolute stillness. Even the cadets in front of him just stood there. How much had they heard? Did it matter? They couldn't possibly understand it. The secrets he'd kept from them were suddenly more important than he'd ever dreamed.

"Lance?" It was Vince who found his voice first, turning to face him, Red Lion and Red Lion locking their gazes. "Are you okay?" The way he grimaced as soon as he asked it made it clear he knew the answer. It really wasn't even the right question. "I mean..."

"No. I know what you mean. I'm not okay." He looked at the shadows where his former teammate had disappeared. "And I'm not gonna be the only one, either... come on. Back to the castle. We've got a lot to talk about."

* * *

They gathered in Control, the kids calling up holo chairs. They knew this would be rough, as well as he did. It was time to tell the truth. In a way, maybe that was a relief, no matter how much it hurt.

Who the hell was he kidding? It was going to be miserable. The future sucked... but so did the past.

"Pretty much everything you know about the Battle of Galra is a lie." Lance paced in front of the monitor, brow furrowed. "Even the Alliance itself doesn't know the truth anymore, I'd wager; Sven was the most adamant of all of us that we couldn't let it get out."

Daniel glowered. "And you didn't tell us? You chose us, brought us here, we woke up the lions and convinced them to fly for us—all of that, and you didn't think we deserved to know the truth?"

"It's not about deserving!" Lance snapped. "There didn't seem like much point in it. Better to let you believe in the legend, maybe think we accomplished some kind of victory there. Give you something to live up to. But fine, you want the truth? Voltron was _defeated_ on Galra."

That got their attention. Five dumbfounded stares fell on him, and the air seemed to become stifling somehow. "Voltron... what? That's not possible, is it? I mean, you won the battle!"

"Yeah, for certain values of 'winning'. More like we didn't lose it." It certainly had never felt like a win. All the honors and medals and commemorations had felt so silly, so hollow. "But of course Voltron was defeated. Why do you think we were running around outside of our lions when that explosion they talk about went off?"

"Because you went into Maahox's lab?" Vince shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, that's the story that they've told. That once you were done there you couldn't get back to the lions. That's not true?"

"No. That timeline is wrong. Most of the basic story _is_ right, but the sequence and the causes are lies."

"...We're listening."

"We didn't abandon Voltron to go after Maahox, not exactly. We knew from the beginning we'd have to take that facility out first, and we planned for it accordingly. The problem came after we got back to the lions." Lance closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. There had been enough blood and violence on Galra to destroy anyone's romantic ideals about the glory of war. "Even with the source of the haggarium cut off, there was too much of it still in the robeasts, and too _many_ of them. We cut our way through dozens of the damn things... but finally they overwhelmed us and brought Voltron down."

Larmina whispered something under her breath that he recognized as an Arusian curse. Well, she wasn't wrong.

"There was still a little fight left in the lions, but all we really could have done was gotten them irreparably torn apart. The Alliance fleet was moving in. Better to survive and wait for backup, right? So we ejected, but we all ended up separated. No way we could get back together with the number of soldiers still on the ground." He looked at his voltcom, flexing his wrist almost unconsciously. "It wasn't just the regular Drule army. Most of the legions were clones of Lotor, and their numbers..." Shudder. "Seemed like there were half a dozen to replace every one that went down. We were literally wading through blood and guts and still not making a dent."

A few of the kids flinched. Yeah, there were reasons he hadn't told them this before. Not just for their sake; every word brought his own memories back in sharper relief. But a little bit of it might've been for their sake.

"And yet here you stand, and Voltron survives. So you must have succeeded somehow?"

"Yeah, you could call it that." He focused on Imam. "Whatever stories you've heard about Hunk's heroism? Forget them. They're honestly a little insulting. He didn't make some dumb suicidal charge to stop Lotor from being a spiteful bastard. He broke cover and went charging straight into the heart of the Imperial Legion to create a diversion for the rest of us."

He could still see that, too, from his vantage point atop a distant hill. That flash of yellow light suddenly abandoning its holding action and sprinting for the teeth of the enemy formation, hammer swinging wildly, soldiers and clones flying in all directions. And that yell over their voltcoms...

 _"You guys get together and do that tactics thing! I'll keep these clowns busy. GERONIMO AND BANZAI AND STUFF!"_

As last words went, Hunk's hadn't been half bad.

"He just... ran in alone?" Vince blinked. "Was he crazy?"

"Oh, totally. Part of his charm." Lance clenched his fists until it hurt. The guilt was coming back too. They'd all second-guessed themselves so much for that moment, but... "What else could we do? We could help him more by doing what he told us. The whole bull-in-an-evil-china-shop thing was kind of a unique talent of his." His voice was wavering, but at this stage, so what? "So we regrouped. We still had to fight our way through a bit, though. By the time we did..." _Damn everything_. "They'd captured him."

Bruno tilted his head. "Captured?"

"Yeah. More useful than just killing him." A surge of anger began working its way through the regrets. "Wasn't enough for Lotor to have downed Voltron and have us on the run. Which, I mean, that might've been the only intelligent move he ever made, we _were_ pretty badass." _Doesn't mean he wasn't still a sadistic evil bastard_. "So then he had leverage."

Daniel nodded, looking uncharacteristically serious as he listened. "So he what, used him as a hostage?"

"Something like that." For a moment Lance had to look away, his nails still digging into his palms nearly hard enough to draw blood. Anything to not let _that_ image resurface in his mind. "...He put out a broadcast. Torturing him, telling us the only way to stop it was to surrender. Open channels, full frequency. There was no way to get away from it."

None of the kids seemed to have any idea what to say to that. Maybe just as well. Of course the images were coming back. Of all of them he'd never known Hunk could look so hateful. The whole time his eyes had burned like hazel fire, defying every atrocity Lotor inflicted on him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a single scream... until even he couldn't hold it back anymore.

There had only ever been the one scream. More than enough for decades of sleepless nights.

When he finally managed to speak again his voice was a bit ragged. "We knew we had to play along with it, of course. Wouldn't be the first time we'd escaped from a dungeon on a Drule planet, anyway. We put our heads together, trying to come up with a plan, and then we realized Pidge was being awfully quiet. Looked up and he was already halfway to the damn palace." He shook his head at the memory. "That kid... he could go from hyper-logical to more impulsive than _me_ in half a second, I swear. All of a sudden he was in full ninja mode, darting his way through the whole Imperial Legion like it wasn't even there."

"Well of course. He was the Green Lion." Bruno gave a proud smile, then it turned into a frown. "But."

"Yeah." Lance sighed. "But. Something went wrong... we were trying to decide what to do, whether engaging ourselves would help him or just put them on alert. And next thing we knew there was this massive explosion." He squeezed his eyes shut, one last desperate bid to block out the memory. "You can't imagine. It was hell, this totally surreal hell. Nothing but light. No sound, no pressure. Just light and heat and death." A shudder. "It vaporized the Dread Palace, the robeasts, the bulk of the Drule legions and the Alliance reinforcements. We were far enough away from the blast, but Pidge and Hunk..." He swallowed back the lump gathering in his throat. "...well, they were right in the middle of it."

"Right." Larmina's voice was barely a whisper into the silence that followed those words. "That was Lotor's trump card."

"But why would he need to in that case? Voltron was down. He had a captive. He was winning."

 _Yeah. Yeah, that's the question, isn't it?_ His gaze fell on Bruno, haunted. "That's exactly the thing. The official story of that explosion is a flat-out lie... a lie we spread, because the truth was too dangerous. It wasn't Lotor."

Several jaws dropped. Daniel's _"What?"_ drowned out a few other exclamations, but four of the pilots were again united in shock.

One wasn't. Vince's eyes sparked, that mysterious energy springing to life within them. "Of course. That's what Red was really showing me, why the Nexus came to life right before the blast. It overloaded! Voltron's power was unleashed in its purest form. Nothing could hope to stand against that."

"Exactly." Lance nodded. "Voltron was all that was left intact in the blast radius. It was still a mangled mess from combat, but we thought it was undamaged by the explosion; when we went to try to fly it home, that's when we realized how badly it had been weakened. Its recording told us what had happened, the Nexus had overcharged and erupted. But we didn't know why. And you know we never figured out how to fix the drain, even though we couldn't find any sign of actual _damage_ there." He closed his eyes, letting Pidge's words come back.

 _It was on a delay, he was already dead._

 _I gave up my body to be their conduit._

No, it hadn't been some wild malfunction, some erratic danger of Voltron that they'd had to keep hidden from the world. It had been Pidge's vengeance, because Hunk couldn't be saved... of course it had, of course he would...

 _And that's the other part of Vince's vision. He said the blast felt 'angry'. That's what you were trying to tell us, wasn't it Red? You knew there was so much more to this. But we couldn't understand._

"Lance?"

He looked up again; the team was watching him with expressions of concern. Even Daniel looked worried. "Yeah. Sorry. So... now you know." It wouldn't have made any difference. Without what Pidge had told them, the truth wouldn't have helped. As if the full truth helped anyway. "And now we need to make a game plan."

"Yeah, about that. What exactly are we supposed to do now? The lunatic's out to destroy Voltron and in case you didn't notice, our attacks just bounced off of him." Larmina scowled. "He couldn't even be bothered to hit _back_."

"Probably just as well," Lance retorted. "He'd have all your spleens out and labeled in jars before you knew what hit you." That got him several affronted looks, but he really didn't care. The kids were good, yes—as good as he'd been able to make them on such short notice. But they weren't even up to par with _him_ , past his prime as he was. Never mind Pidge at his peak. And _definitely_ never mind an angry immortal Pidge wielding half of Voltron's own power.

"But he can't harm Voltron either." Bruno shifted uneasily. "Must've worked with Kargil because he has to use a third party. Something that _can_ damage Voltron. Fighting us directly doesn't help him."

"That's right. He's all talk. All his shiny powers are totally useless against the lions, so who cares if we can hurt him or not?" Daniel looked over the group and shrugged, then kicked back confidently in his seat. "All he can do is throw more fighters at us. Maybe robeasts. We've got this. Bring it _on_."

"Pidge would _not_ drop a robeast on Arus!" Lance snapped. But even as he said it, he knew better. Pidge probably would, now. Of course he would. He basically already had, in the guise of Zeliax, why would anything change now? Just because they knew the truth?

Everyone was looking at him again. They knew just as well as he did.

"...Well stop staring at me, kiddos. You want him to bring it on? You'd better be ready to back up that mouth. Drills. Now. Move."

* * *

Pidge flew the shuttle back to the _Hellbringer_ slowly, and not just because he had to make his way around the Arusian sensor network. He didn't really want to return to the fleet. But options were few and far between; he still needed a weapon, and they were available. No doubt Kargil's death would have thrown them into utter disarray.

Did they know he'd been a part of that? Had they been watching the battle, had they understood what they saw? But it didn't matter. Either way was fine. If not, then Zeliax would logically hold a high position with the remaining leadership. If so, well... they would fear him, and do as they were told.

So much as these damnable Drules were _capable_ of doing as they were told.

What he actually intended to tell them was a more difficult question. Even knowing Kargil was an insane megalomaniac he hadn't expected him to kill his own chief witch. _Idiot_. The Circle wouldn't be able to create robeasts without Sharilar, and the fleet alone would be no match for Voltron.

Contingency plans, then... fine. _Whatever it takes. As it was always going to be_.

Confronting Lance had only intensified that resolve. He never should have done it, he should have just left after Voltron retreated. Why had he stayed? Why the hell had he... no, he knew. Of course he knew. He'd had to see him, to hear his voice again. To just one last time cling to the memories of what the Voltron Force had once been, those distant days when he hadn't been alone...

Perhaps he'd just needed to be certain he'd steeled himself against those memories. He'd lost one golden opportunity to them already. It couldn't happen again.

He had never figured out exactly how long he'd been lost in the darkness on Galra, unconscious and covered in ash and debris. It must have been weeks, considering the state of the wreckage when he clawed his way out. And those weeks were the last time he'd slept in three and a half centuries. Just one more cruel irony of immortality... it robbed him of even that reprieve. Not that he imagined nightmares would be any shelter, but then again, he didn't need to sleep to have _those_.

Pidge didn't want to sleep. He wanted to die. He wanted to stop seeing that mangled body every time he closed his eyes, he wanted escape the bitterness and the hatred... he just wanted to end all of this. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else had mattered for centuries.

 _There is no other way._

Telok came rushing to meet him as soon as the shuttle docked, and actually took a swing at him. That answered one question, anyway. "Traitor! How dare you show your face again on this vessel?"

 _Getting tired of being called a traitor._

"Shut up, Admiral." Pidge grabbed his wrist and torqued it a bit; not enough to snap bones, but more than enough to get his point across. "The fleet is now under new leadership. Your emperor was insane, in case you hadn't noticed—surely you're aware of what haggarium did to your empire the _last_ time?"

Snarling, Telok yanked his arm free and glared balefully. "Never mind the emperor. You murdered the prince!"

...Oh. Well, he certainly hadn't expected that to be the issue. And for a moment the accusation actually stung. Murdered? No. The fool boy had saved him. The fool boy had _believed_ in him. And he'd repaid that act the only way that was left to him, releasing the prince from the agony of his sacrifice.

Not that he wouldn't have killed Serek in cold blood, had it become necessary. But it hadn't been. And Pidge didn't much care to be blamed for crimes he hadn't been forced to commit—the ones he _had_ were more than enough to keep him occupied.

"I did no such thing. His father ensured anyone who tried to free me from that prison would die. He did it anyway, and that was his decision. Blame the emperor for the death of his son, not me!"

Though the admiral continued to scowl at him, the rage on his face did lessen slightly. Very slightly. "...I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that. As you say, he was mad. Of course I noticed." He stood up a bit straighter. "Be that as it may, why should I submit to your rule? You are a _human_."

Every time someone called him that Pidge still wanted to correct them. It was pointless. It had been pointless in the distant past, when Baltans hadn't yet been an extinct race. It was especially pointless now. But it still grated. Maybe that irritation was what made him give the next answer, though at this point there was no need to hide it anyway. "How about because I've been hacking your fleet computers since I first got here? You'll obey me, or you'll find out how well your selfdestruct systems work."

And that brought the rage back, as well it should have. "You _lie_ , coward."

"Would you like proof?"

They stared at each other for a long minute, Telok's eyes aglow with an almost blinding fury. But he would back down, as he had to. "...No. That won't be necessary. But I warn you, Zeliax. Whoever or whatever you truly are, you may control the fleet, but the Empire will _not_ bow to you."

 _What now? Who said anything about the Empire?_ "I don't want your empire, you idiot." He noticed with detached interest that he wasn't falling back into Zeliax's persona. But why would he? There was no reason for it anymore. No more mysteries, no more games. "Do you really think I'm doing this to take your throne? If I wanted to stage a coup I'd have staged a much more competent one."

Now he hesitated. "...Go on, then."

 _Contingencies_. He couldn't risk his only weapon in battle. "The fleet will be under my command. But I no longer need you in combat, matters have escalated well past that point. You don't need to throw any more of your soldiers' lives away."

Telok's eyes flared again. "My warriors do not fear death in battle, Zeliax!"

"I wasn't implying they do. I know for a fact they don't; they came here following a lunatic, after all." Pidge crossed his arms. "But you saw just as well as I did that your attacks weren't working anyway. You just couldn't say it."

The admiral's baleful gaze never dimmed, but finally he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Very well. What would you demand of us, if not to battle your enemies?"

Despite how this had gone so far, there was no sense further antagonizing him. Better to make an offer he couldn't object to. "You'll wait while I arrange the surrender of the lions. Then, you will destroy them. Completely. You can have all the credit, all the glory. I don't care. I only want them _gone_."

Telok's frown deepened. "A generous offer, all told. What's the catch?"

"There's no catch."

"I am no fool, Zeliax. I recognize you must think me one after I followed the Emperor's orders in our assault here, but understand this. I have served the Empire for fifty years. A few vaguely airworthy derelicts turned into a full armada on my watch. Three dozen challengers to my place have perished at my hand. I was not born yesterday!"

... _I probably deserved that_. It _would_ have to seem almost too good to be true. What would Telok and his fifty years of loyal service ever be able to understand of his true motives? _Never mind your own better judgment. These idiots don't understand anything_ but _antagonism._

"Fine, Admiral. Let me explain to you what I explained to your late emperor. I don't care about you—you personally, your fleet, or your empire. There's something I want, the _only_ thing I want, that I can't have until Voltron is destroyed. You are my tools to accomplish that. Nothing more. What 'catch' could I possibly demand? You're nothing but faceless pawns in my endgame, and you have nothing else to offer."

...Not to mention as soon as Voltron was gone, he'd be taking the whole fleet down with him _. There's your 'what about the Alliance,' Lance... one last time, I'll do their work for them. A better parting gift than they deserve._

Those dark thoughts may have seeped into his expression, or perhaps it was his words alone that caused Telok to step back, staring. "...So. We are to accept this subjugation?"

"I offered it to you as a business agreement. You asked for elaboration on the terms. The subjugation is temporary." _More than you know._ "So do we have a deal or not, Admiral?"

He was still bristling, but then his eyes dimmed. "I can hardly refuse it. But how do you mean to arrange their surrender? If that were within your power shouldn't you have already done so by now?"

Pidge turned away, muscles tensing. "It's as I said. Matters have escalated. I didn't want to resort to what I have to employ now..." He tilted his head back towards the admiral, spearing him with a gaze full of haunted malice. "...and I suggest you not ask any more questions."

The admiral took another step back. Oh, he was afraid. But he'd had fifty years of learning not to show it, no doubt, and finally he nodded. "Aye, sir."

Without another word, Pidge headed for his quarters. Maybe it was a pragmatic need to map things out before he acted. Maybe it was just a bit of foolish nostalgia, one last wistful gift to the Force that had once been.

 _You can have a couple of days to breathe, Lance. And then you can know my hell._


	16. Ultimatum

Reawakening  
Chapter 13: Ultimatum

* * *

The castle had become so quiet in the days since they'd learned of the truth. As if the ancient walls themselves were holding their breath. Imam walked the hallways quietly, not quite able to convince himself to go to the crypts. Going down there would necessarily lead him to that empty tomb he'd wondered about. He did not want to see that. He didn't want to be forced to confront the cruel reality—that lost soul denied rest in death hadn't actually even been _dead_.

Part of him wanted to flee to Yellow Lion's den, to seek the comfort of the great one's presence, but a visceral fear stopped him. His peoples' ancestral fear of Voltron had been given a new shape. Yellow's presence would not be so comforting. Not now. Not after seeing what the past Green Lion's bonds had wrought.

 _Have we, too, risked our souls for this?_

Voltron's power was far more terrible and far-reaching than he could have imagined, in either dreams or nightmares. Like any other Ghostwalker, Imam had entered this war willing to face death. Was it a worse fate he truly risked?

Would it have changed anything if it were?

Turning a corner he found Vince, just standing in the hallway looking grim. The other pilot signaled for silence and gestured to the door across from him; Imam stepped forward silently, peering around the doorway.

 _Oh..._

This doorway led to a balcony. Lance was slumped over the railing, staring out over the Academy complex and Green Lion's forest in the distance. He'd run them ragged since Zeliax's truth was revealed—after the battle and that terrible revelation, they'd been on the simulators past midnight. Yesterday and this morning had been repairs, conducted in the midst of chilling silence... the others had been shocked when he hadn't forced them into a new round of drills afterwards, but Imam had not been surprised. Not when their commander had seemed so close to breaking down.

It seemed his judgment had been correct.

He approached Vince, watching for a minute before whispering. "We should go to him."

"Should we really?" He barely breathed the words.

"Why would we not?"

"I don't know, he..." Vince shook his head in frustration. "I mean, he's our commanding officer, that's not really a thing... oh, who am I kidding? He's Lance McClain, dude! He's a legend from the past and we're a couple of snot-nosed cadets. What good are we gonna do?"

Blinking, Imam wrinkled his nose before realizing that was probably just another expression. "True." He met his companion's amber eyes and nodded an acknowledgment. "We are not his peers, nor his equals. But he is hurting, and he is alone."

"And I know you two are there."

They both jumped, whirling to face the balcony. Lance still had his back to them. "Our apologies, Commander! We were merely concerned... for your..." He trailed off, eyes glowing in embarrassment.

"Believe it or not, I do appreciate that. But either get out here if you're coming, or go gossip somewhere else."

"Wasn't gossip," Vince protested weakly as he stepped outside, Imam trailing just behind.

"Yeah, I know. Don't take it personally, I'm a little... touchy right now." He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "Okay, a lot touchy."

"You can hardly be blamed for that."

"Yeah, pretty sure it'd be weirder if you _weren't_ touchy."

"I guess." Lance remained still as the two cadets flanked him, leaning over the railing on either side. Imam studied the profile of his face, trying to read it. But really, he hardly needed to see their commander's expression to recognize the pain he was in. "Kind of surprised you guys aren't off sleeping, with as hard as I've been working you."

Vince turned to study him too, and raised an eyebrow. "You look like you need sleep more than anyone, to be totally honest."

"Yeah, well." Another sigh. "I tried that and just ended up sitting there thinking." His grip on the railing tightened until his knuckles went white. "Time once was, Pidge would've told me that wasn't my strong suit, and I would've laughed and agreed with him."

There it was. Imam studied him sadly. "You could think yourself into madness, but to not think would also prove you mad. Talk to us, Commander."

He hesitated, but obviously needed to talk, and so finally he did. "I still can't understand it. How did we just leave him there? There wasn't a sign of life left in that hellscape. Even after rescue operations were over. We spent two extra days just looking for any trace of _him_. Anything to bring back..." His voice cracked. "...how did we miss him being alive?"

Imam had been contemplating that himself, but he could only imagine the carnage that must have existed on Galra. Could it really be such a shock? But Vince shifted uncomfortably. "Probably because he doesn't scan as being alive."

"Huh?" Lance's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean his power overwhelms bio scans. I ran a quick analysis on him while he was soaking up Red's fire... if I hadn't specifically filtered Voltron's energy signature out, his biorhythms wouldn't have showed up at all." He offered what was probably meant to be an encouraging look, but really just came off as a grimace. "Whatever else this was, it wasn't your fault."

After a moment of taking that in, Lance lowered his head again. "...That would do it. There was so much residual energy there." Somehow his grip tightened still further. "I wish that made it better... but knowing doesn't change a thing. And I don't think he's in much of a mood for explanations anyway."

"Yeah, didn't seem like it." Vince looked away. "He's a little bit crazy."

"A little bit." Sigh. "He was always a little crazy, but not _that_ kind of crazy."

"Yet you do not seem surprised by the... intensity of his reaction to my predecessor's death." Imam's eyes dimmed. It was a very sensitive question that raised, but an obvious one as well. "If I may ask, were they, ah... lovers?"

"Lovers?" Lance clearly had to bite back a laugh. "No, no. They were way closer than _that_." He closed his eyes, choking up a little. "When Pidge came to the Academy he was this half-feral little ninja kid, didn't know anything but discipline and war. Hunk was the first friend he ever had." Sigh. "...More than that, though. _We_ were all he ever had. All any of us ever had, maybe. Hunk was more important to him than anyone, but I kind of bet he would've blown the Dread Palace sky-high over any of us. That's who he was. And now he's... this."

Imam cocked his head, then turned to study the distant forest. What really seized him there was not the new information about their foe.

 _All any of us ever had, maybe._

He could understand that sentiment. After all, what else did _he_ have? This unlikely calling had given him his place and his purpose. Perhaps that was the key. It wasn't that they risked their souls by being bound to the lions, but by being bound to each other. Such was the way of life... but to reject such bonds was to be unable to live. That was proper. Maybe being part of the Voltron Force just made it that much stronger.

 _If that is our risk then so be it. We have fought for Arus and the Alliance. Now we fight for Voltron... and for each other._

Tentatively, he reached out and touched their commander's hand. "I know we are not your old team, Commander. But you do have us now, for whatever that may be worth."

Lance turned to him, then looked over at Vince, who nodded with a bit of a sheepish grin. He did not look convinced, to put it mildly. But then he nodded and gave a low laugh. "...You know, you kids aren't so bad."

Imam was pretty sure that was the greatest compliment he'd ever been given.

* * *

Once again Larmina had gone to the gym, beating the hell out of some hapless hologram. She and Daniel had had the most intensive repairs—the others and the staff had helped, of course, but having to return their lions to their dens afterwards meant they'd still been the last ones done. Daniel had gone along with her when they left Control, not because he really wanted to hang out in the gym, but because he didn't really want to be by himself either.

He was thinking about faith. Faith in Voltron. Faith in the former Force, even, the heroes he'd grown up idolizing. Now all of that had been turned upside down. The truth about Galra had been a shock, but it was the truth about Pidge that had really shaken that faith. How could one of those former heroes betray his own memory like this? The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. It wasn't supposed to be like this. The past was supposed to be pure and noble. It wasn't supposed to be such a tangled mess.

He probably didn't have the right to be so mad about the past. Not when their commander had lived it, and obviously hadn't gotten over it. But then, maybe he was a little mad on Lance's behalf too.

Distraction would be better than dwelling on the anger, in any case. And Larmina seemed a bit more hostile than usual as she beat on the sim, for reasons he somehow doubted were at all like what he was dwelling on. "So what's with you?"

"Oh, I got a message from my parents," she answered lightly, kicking the sim target so hard the projection wavered. "They want me to come home for some fancy party, now that we've killed the big bad emperor and all." Another kick. "I'm almost happy we still have another lunatic gunning for us, gives me an excuse to say no."

Daniel cocked his head, sitting on the floor a safe distance away. "You mean you _don't_ want to celebrate us kicking Drule butt?"

"Not with them I don't." Blue fire flashed in her eyes as she looked at him. "They've only bothered to get in touch one other time, you know. They were so proud until I told them I probably wasn't going to get any leave because, oh I don't know, defending the universe and stuff? Then they lost interest." Kick. "They just want to dress me up and show me off, and brag to their friends that their daughter flies a lion."

That struck him as weird. His own parents weren't exactly falling all over themselves to congratulate him on his new position; his responses to his messages home had been pretty much _yes, yes, that's nice dear_. Very supportive. They'd heard enough of his daydreams growing up, and couldn't imagine he might've actually succeeded at something. Most likely they wouldn't believe him until he got a chance to land Black Lion in the backyard. The idea that Larmina had parents who wanted to be proud of her, and wanted no part of it, was hard to really wrap his head around.

Besides, recognition was recognition, wasn't it? "At least they want to give you some credit."

"No they don't. They want to give themselves credit, like they had anything to do with it." She gave the target one last kick, and the sim decided it'd had enough, flickering out with a low hum from the projector. "Besides, just because attention is all _you_ care about..."

"It is not!" He snapped the denial before fully registering what she'd said, and paused. "...I mean, I like it a lot but it's not the _only_ thing I care about."

She studied him briefly. "It's why you're here, isn't it?"

Well... "I'm here because I've always wanted to be here." He leaned back on his hands and shrugged. "I wanted to be here because I wanted to be a hero, and yeah, if you wanna look at it that way..." He remembered Black Lion's lecture and shook his head. "Is that such a bad thing? Wanting to be awesome and have people recognize how awesome you are? I mean what are _you_ here for, to tell your parents to get stuffed? Same principle, different kind of attention."

"...I'm here because Blue Lion wanted a pilot who hated piloting, because she's weird." For a moment she looked down at her voltcom. "And because I wanted to protect Arus. This is my home, you know." Her expression darkened slightly. "Someone in the family ought to care more about the planet than their own egos, right?"

Daniel flinched. "Yeah, that would be good." Then the rest of that sank in, an oddity that was an even better distraction. "Blue Lion's a girl?"

"Really? _That's_ what you took from that?"

"Hey, I listened to the rest of it! But I mean... I didn't actually think about the lions having genders and stuff? Who would? They're robots!" He was certain he could feel Black Lion's presence asserting itself in the back of his mind, and was also pretty certain he was laughing. "...I mean, uh, I totally knew Black was a dude, but I didn't think about the others... you know... being different... um."

"...You're an idiot," Larmina declared, rolling her eyes with great conviction. Then a small smile crossed her lips. "But there are worse idiots, I guess."

"Thanks, I think." His laugh came out a little halfhearted. Now they were talking about Voltron, his own fault no less, and everything wanted to flood back and make him angry again.

"What's eating _you_ , Daniel?"

He blinked, startled enough to actually answer the question. "What do you think? One of my heroes is trying to destroy the reason he's one of my heroes. A lion pilot wants to destroy the lions! It doesn't bother _you?"_

"Oh." She dropped to the floor too, staring up at the ceiling. "I try not to think about that."

Yeah. He'd been trying that too. "Wish I were as good at it as you seem to be."

"It's an acquired skill." When she lowered her gaze it was surprisingly troubled. "They tried to teach me diplomacy, you know. Royal education. You have to be gracious and understanding and respect where the other guy is coming from. Then you can form a relationship and build trust and both get what you want." Her tone was stiff, as if reciting some old lesson.

Daniel nodded, a little confused as to how that related, but no sense not running with it. "Okay. And?"

"And they told me I should apply those lessons to everything. What I found out was that when I knew that poor sap on the other side of the dojo was only there because he'd been bullied into it, the same way my parents bullied me into fancy parties, it got a lot harder to punch him in the nose." She drew her knees to her chest. "I don't want to understand the enemy, because they're still the enemy—they're attacking my planet and that pisses me off, and that's all I want or need to know. So I'd rather not think about who we're fighting and why, thanks."

Well... he certainly hadn't seen _that_ coming. _Totally not why it's been bothering me._ But what could he expect? Larmina obviously hadn't grown up immersed in Voltron's legend the way he had. She'd had her own legends and expectations to deal with. To him the new enemy was a betrayal of everything he'd believed in. To her it was just one more threat to stop.

Just this threat might piss _him_ off more than most.

"Works for me." He shot a slightly nervous look at the sim projectors, then shrugged. "Want to do some real sparring?"

She grinned. "You're on."

* * *

Bruno had intended to go out to the forest in their off time. He needed the comfort of the wild, to center himself within the natural realm against the incredibly unnatural threat that now loomed over them. After all they had faced, his own predecessor was the true enemy... and the Drule atrocities seemed to pale in comparison to this tragedy. Yes, that was the word. He remembered it now, the first moment he'd seen Green Lion, speaking to her as she weighed his worth.

 _In the tragedy of his loss, the cycle turned..._

He could feel it from her even now—a deep ache in the back of his mind that wasn't truly his own. That was why he didn't end up making it to the forest, instead halting in Green's den and sitting on the great lion's paw. "You knew. Didn't you, Green Lion? You knew he still lived. You knew he was out there somewhere." He flexed his own claws against her metal ones. "You knew when you charged me with life that he was trapped in a life that shouldn't be."

An affirmative, and far more, flowed into him. Yes, Green Lion was hurting. How could she not be? She still saw this revenant as her own, even as he sought to destroy her to end his own pain.

"I don't fear him," he said softly. "I can't. We have to stop him. I know that. But he's in too much pain for me to fear."

To his surprise, her response now was one of contradiction. A sharp, cold wind took hold within the den, making his fur stand on end. But of course. There was plenty to fear, wasn't there? Their enemy knew them well. He was angry, hurt, and desperate. There were few more dangerous combinations.

Even so...

A howl outside the den shook him from his thoughts. A much more powerful wind was building. "Green?" Sliding off her paw he moved to the mouth of the den, looking out at the trees a little nervously. "What's happening?"

She didn't exactly answer him. She did, however, make it clear he dared not go outside to find out.

The next thing he knew he saw fire. An orange glow had consumed the distant darkness of the forest and was racing straight at him, fed by the shrieking gale. "Oh. That's happening." For another moment he stood transfixed, then scrambled back as deep into the den as he could go.

It was only a few more moments before the wave of fire was upon them. Even knowing the dens could withstand such brutal assaults and worse, Bruno dropped to the ground behind Green; it was probably just as well. The power of the den would protect it from the fire, but it didn't stop the hot wind from pouring in. Not hot enough to burn, but more than hot enough to _hurt_. On the floor of the den an emerald glow had fallen over the moss, or it may well have withered away. He felt like he might yet wither away himself if this lasted much longer...

And as swiftly as it had begun it was gone. The howl of the winds and the roar of the flames gave way to a perfect stillness.

 _Is it over? Already?_

For several minutes Bruno couldn't bring himself to leave the shelter of Green Lion's shadow. It was too strange, he was having too much trouble even wrapping his head around what had just happened. And somehow he knew venturing out would only make that far worse...

Eventually his need to know got the better of his fear, and he crept for the mouth of the cave.

A small patch of forest around the den remained undamaged, protected by Green's power. Everything else was obliterated. It wasn't enough for the trees to be stripped and charred; the winds had ripped the blackened trunks from the earth and thrown them around like toys. He stared, trying to make sense of it. Forest fires were natural parts of the cycle, but this swift and violent? And in _this_ forest?

Stepping outside cautiously, he saw the fire had actually stopped at the den, leaving the half of the forest behind it intact. Stranger and stranger. But a chill was starting to creep down his spine. This was too powerful, too calculated. It couldn't be...

"Bruno!"

Startling, he turned to see the rest of the Force rushing to him, even Lance. "Bruno! Dude! Are we glad to see you, we thought you might've been out there in—" Daniel paused and blinked, then drew himself up and tried to replace his worried expression with a more serious one. "Uh, I mean, oh good! You're okay."

He couldn't help the chuckle. "Thank you, Daniel." Then he too became serious, turning back to the devastated forest. "Did you see what happened? Was there a bombardment?"

"No. Nothing." Lance stepped up next to him and studied the scene grimly. "...Well, I mean, a giant fire tornado, which is something. But no sign of an attacker."

Bruno's tail swished in agitation. He didn't want to believe what his instincts and his lion were telling him, but...

The choice was taken from him as a shadowy figure appeared through the falling ash, approaching the den. That same slim form who'd been haunting the lions and the Force since revealing himself. But where the last time he'd seemed so conflicted, today his aura was pure, grim certainty.

He pulled up short at the sight of them. "...Well. Didn't really expect to find _all_ of you here already. Admiring my work?"

"You did this?" Larmina growled.

"Of course." Pidge looked out at the ruined forest, then returned his attention to the team, his hateful gaze boring into each pilot in turn before he stopped and settled on their commander. "I'm finished playing games with you and your cubs, Lance."

He bristled. "And what's that supposed to mean? You brought down a bunch of trees. Good for you. We all know as well as you do that your powers won't damage Voltron."

"They don't need to. There are plenty of other ways." Pidge's voice dropped. "You have twenty-four hours to surrender the lions to me. If you don't, I will take this," he gestured to the devastation, "to an inhabited area—let's say Corrinton—and I will see to it that there's nothing left but blood and splinters." His gaze seemed to become darker with each word, a chill wind sweeping over them. "And just in case you think your so-called Defender is worth that price... I will continue as long as necessary. I'll destroy one city every day until either you meet my demands, or Arus is left a wasteland in Voltron's name."

Dead silence fell over the group. Not even Daniel or Larmina seemed to have an outburst at the ready for such a threat.

"...You would not." Lance's voice wasn't pained or disbelieving anymore. It was deadly cold and almost commanding, as if he might reassert their past to end this madness.

"Wouldn't I?" Pidge's eyes were equally cold. "Decide what you're willing to risk, Lance. Though I can make you one promise; I won't leave behind any victims like _you_."

At those words, their commander snarled in rage and lunged before any of the team could stop him. "You egomaniacal little—" Whatever he meant to say was cut off by a cry of pain as he slammed his fist into the other man's cheek, and Bruno could hear bones snap. Except the wrong person's bones had broken. Pidge seemed uninjured, but Lance sank back clutching his hand, his face contorted in more rage than pain as he glared at his former teammate.

"You would know about that, wouldn't you!" Pidge had stumbled back a few steps from the blow, and returned that burning rage with frozen venom. "...I have nothing more to say to you. You have one day." He turned and was gone.

Again, silence. That seemed to be the safest reaction anymore. Finally Larmina found her voice, and growled what the others all seemed to be thinking. "That _bastard_."

"Would he really do it?" Vince asked quietly. "Would he really..."

"Yes." Bruno spoke even before Lance could, acting on the anguish that was radiating through the back of his mind. "Or at least Green Lion believes he would."

"He will." Their commander still had that deadly edge in his voice. "Damn him, but he will."

 _He's already damned._ Bruno decided it was better not to voice that. He should be angry too, shouldn't he? He should be furious at this threatened atrocity. But with Green's sorrow whispering inside of him, he couldn't seem to muster any anger.

Daniel spoke through gritted teeth, violet eyes narrowed in rage. "So what do we do about it?"

"We go evacuate Corrinton, first and foremost. And after that..." Lance shook his head. "I'm not sure yet."

* * *

Corrinton was a mid-sized city near the base of the mountains, one of relatively few Arusian cities to be more industrial than agricultural, or at least cultural. It was just inside the boundaries of the Markora District; the battered capital and the Castle of Lions complex were on a span of neutral ground, and the four districts that surrounded it used their closest cities to set the lines. So basically, it was one of the most convenient places Pidge could've chosen, in terms of the Force getting to it and getting people to safety.

Lance wondered if that was intentional. Despite what he'd told the kids, he couldn't quite make himself believe Pidge would commit such a slaughter. He might send a message, sure, but kill that many people?

 _He's not the Pidge you used to know. The sooner you make yourself accept that, the better off everyone will be._ He looked at the shiny new cast on his hand and winced at the confirmation. The young pilot had understood him, once. Understood the overwhelming hatred he'd carried into every battle, the remnant of watching his own home destroyed by the Drules—after all, Pidge had lost his home, too. Even as Lance had fought to overcome that blind rage, the two of them had shared a certain understanding. Now he was using even _that_ as a weapon.

Part of Lance wondered if the city was really in danger at all, or if Pidge was just manipulating him with what he knew to be the most effective tools. But if that was the intent, he was way too enamored with his own cleverness. _You want to play on my hate, you little bastard? You'd better be ready to get burned._

The Markoran authorities knew they were coming. They weren't too happy about it, and they didn't know _why_ , but how could they really explain why? A credible threat. That was the best explanation they could offer. The city leadership hadn't found it convincing, and Lance couldn't blame them. He was pretty much relying on the mystique of the Voltron Force to gain cooperation, because they didn't have a whole lot else.

Where could the evacuees go? That was another excellent question they couldn't answer. For the moment, the Castle of Lions complex would be a serviceable, if suboptimal, refugee camp. But that was a temporary solution, and really only bought them a day at best. They could probably shove everyone in Corrinton into those structures, but what about the next city? Most likely they would need to enlist the Alliance's help. But even then, where did that ultimately lead them? Were they supposed to evacuate all of Arus? Hell no.

Finding a way to stop Pidge was the only real option. But Lance had no idea where to even begin with that. So he stood in Control, seething, watching the lions as they swooped in on the city.

"Doesn't look like we have many takers," Daniel observed as they moved in. "Maybe a couple dozen at the evacuation point."

 _Figures_. "It would be too easy if they actually believed us, wouldn't it? Okay, get the smart people out of there first, then we'll see about practicing the fine art of persuasion."

"Got it, boss."

The next moment, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Vince felt it, though only a few seconds before it happened. Not enough time to even make sense of what he was feeling, never mind trying to act on it. It was an odd sensation of being watched. More than watched. Almost as though some other presence were breathing right down his neck. At the same time, he noticed a slight fluctuation in Red Lion's energy levels.

Then a wave of _something_ hit him, the strongest he'd ever felt Red Lion's presence assert itself. If he hadn't known better, he would have called it panic.

Oh, it was totally panic.

Completely unbidden, his lion reared up with an awful roar and spat a wall of flame straight down the street towards the evacuation point.

 _Oh my god..._

Immediately he seized the controls, wrestling with whatever unseen force had taken command. Red obeyed him briefly, launching into the air; a second later he lost it again, and his lion lunged for the ground. "Red! No!" As if _that_ was going to stop it? He could feel the lion's own distress screaming in his mind, even as it plowed claws-first into the closest building.

Trying to focus on anything but the walls collapsing around him, Vince realized with a new surge of panic that he wasn't the only one who'd lost control.

"Pull back! Retreat! However else you want to say get the hell out of here!"

"Would love to! Green would love to! Can't do it!"

"Me either, my controls aren't—"

"What the hell is going on out there?"

With the building he'd pounced on in flames around him—judging by what appeared to be a rack of sweaters smoldering on Red's nose, he assumed a store, hopefully an _empty_ one—Vince realized his consoles had gone back to normal again. Wrenching back with all his might he withdrew, looking around and immediately regretting it. The other lions were moving in the same fits and starts he'd been managing. And they were attacking the city just as surely as Red was.

Daniel finally fielded Lance's question. "We'll be happy to answer that, boss, as soon as we figure it out. The lions are going haywire!"

 _Going haywire_. That was an awfully nice way of saying _destroying the city we came to save_.

He'd seen more than enough of this. Eyes narrowing in concentration, Vince placed a hand on his console and let the tendrils of light flow into Red Lion's systems.

At first he met no resistance, and couldn't even find anything wrong. Then his whole world seemed to be consumed in flame, a power that filled his senses and tore away nearly every fragment of conscious thought. At the same time he was vaguely aware of Red moving. Attacking. Something in front of them splintered, though he had no idea what and was really happier that way.

It was all he could do to pull back from the link. "Not a mechanical issue. If, you know, anyone actually thought it was."

No, they all knew...

"That miserable piece of traitor garbage is doing this." The hatred in Larmina's voice could have given Pidge himself a run for his money.

"I have some control." Yellow Lion actually didn't seem to have attacked anything, though Imam was clearly having trouble getting it to move the way he wanted it to. "I will do what I can, although I am having a great deal of difficulty with stalls." As he spoke he managed to push Yellow forward, soaking up several lasers from Blue Lion before they could burn through a warehouse.

"We have to get out of here somehow." Black's shock tail ripped a main street to pieces, sending several hovercars flying. "Do you think if we formed Voltron...?"

"Can't risk that. If we succeed it could be even worse." Bruno was struggling to force Green out towards the mountains, but plasma and blades were flying from the lion in every other direction. "Can't shut down either."

Oh, great. _Of course not!_ Vince gritted his teeth. _Come on Red, fight this... we have to fight this!_

Red _was_ fighting. He could tell that. Whatever power was commanding the lions wasn't mechanical, but it wasn't quite spiritual either. It was the raw elemental energy which gave them life. And to struggle against the command of that lifeblood was actually only making it worse. Whenever he could regain control the overcompensation led to the lion just lurching through more buildings. But he couldn't just stop and accept this, _they_ couldn't...

The lions were dispersing through the city, through the raging fires that were rapidly consuming it. A small part of Vince was glad it was fire. The smoke meant they didn't have to see the fleeing crowds he knew perfectly well were there. The flames were a hell of a lot better than Red outright clawing its way through stores and houses.

 _Yeah. What hurts_ you _less, that's what you should be worrying about right now._

But what else was there to do?

 _...No. I have this power in_ my _blood too. I won't allow this!_

With a new burst of determination he took his hands from the controls, placing them both on the main console and reaching out with his own power. He knew exactly what he was facing now, what he was looking at—and looking _for_. Voltron's power was split in half; Pidge and the lions could only struggle in a stalemate, one where every temporary advantage the enemy gained would result in new destruction. But maybe a new source of energy, no matter how small, could turn the tide...

 _Come on, Red. With me._ The lion's presence rose up within him, adding its unyielding will to his own. _Let's take you back from this bastard._

Focusing everything he had on the hostile power invading his lion's core, he sent his whips into Red's piece of the Nexus. Everything they had was turned to this one surge. He felt a jolt rock the cockpit—they'd fallen from the sky in mid-pounce. _It's working, it's working!_ It was straining his mind nearly to the breaking point, wading into this fire. But it was driving that other fire _out_. And then almost like he'd broken through some barrier, all resistance ceased.

No time to celebrate. Even as he thanked Red profusely in his mind he shut down everything, pulling his key out and watching the lion go dark around him. Not the best solution, necessarily. But better than continuing to rampage through the city, by several orders of magnitude. Now they just had to worry about the other four. Could he help them? Transferring his power through the voltcoms was difficult, but if he could just give them that little bit of an edge, maybe...

"...Hey, I've got control back!" Daniel cried out. Black Lion sprang for the sky. Vince could see the others following out his windows, and a wave of relief flowed through him. But immediately on its heels came second thoughts and skepticism. There was no way he'd forced the enemy to completely abandon the field. What was he doing?

As if to answer that question and remind him not to ask stupid questions, Red Lion surged back to life around him, its power gauges shooting up well past full. _Oh crap!_ He grabbed the control rods, as if it really mattered. The power was overwhelming, feeding back into him, and for a moment he realized exactly what had just happened. No, Pidge certainly had not retreated. He'd just decided to throw the entirety of his power at a single lion, and there was nothing Vince could do to stand against it.

 _How are we supposed to fight this?_

As he fought to maintain consciousness his lion charged forward, plowing through several blocks and directly into a huge factory complex. His had no idea what kind of factory it was. Even if he'd had time, his scanners wouldn't have obeyed him. It wouldn't have mattered either. Red Lion breathed a stream of flame through the heart of the complex, striking what looked like a set of storage tanks.

A massive explosion erupted all around him.

* * *

"Vince!"

Larmina was used to fighting the controls. She was used to struggling to make whatever she was piloting do what she wanted, though Blue Lion was better than most. But this was a whole new level. The explosion ripped through the whole factory district, which was pretty much all that had been left intact by that point—and even as the shock wave hit the lions and she fought to keep Blue steady, she was losing control of the weapons again. That brief reprieve had done them about as much good as anything else.

None whatsoever.

 _Don't think. Don't think._

She couldn't afford thought. Not just about the enemy, but about the people dying everywhere around her. Already she'd been trying to use Blue's breath to put out the fires when she had control, which had probably caused some damage in itself; it was _weaponized_ water, after all. But she was also pretty sure that was better damage control than just sitting there and letting the fires burn.

It seemed the asshole hijacking them felt the same way, actually. Blue's lasers and missiles had blasted through much of the city, but he hadn't triggered the water breath once. She took a certain amount of vindication from that. They had to cling to whatever they could... though as her lion finished unleashing one last volley through the ruins, she felt Blue's presence beginning to calm in her mind. Still angry, of course. Furious, as well she ought to be. But the sense of struggle was lifting, as though finally the invading energy had truly retreated.

Why wouldn't it? It had won. _He'd_ won.

Not much was left of Corrinton now, except the flames still raging on all sides. Blood and splinters. Just as promised. She'd already used up her whole supply of Arusian profanity as the lions ran amok, and now was regretting it—she would've liked something new to scream at him as the smoke began to clear.

 _There aren't enough vile things to call this guy. Not in Arusian or anything else!_

As control returned, a voice came over the comms. "What do you suppose they'll say?" Pidge didn't sound triumphant, or even condescending as usual. He sounded... hollow. "Do you think the Alliance will support you after this? Do you think they'll understand?"

Larmina whirled, Blue Lion responding to her flawlessly again, sweeping the area as if she could find the source of the voice if only the lion's head swung back and forth fast enough. "Come out here, you bastard! Show your cowardly face and answer for this!"

"Coward? Is that all you have? I'm not the coward here." A shadow appeared in the heart of the ruins, shrouded in smoke but burning with power. "Let me tell you a little secret, cubs. The people you're fighting to defend? The Alliance you're trying to preserve? _They_ are the cowards. They're content to hide behind Voltron so long as they think there's a greater threat. They can't be bothered to fight for themselves, so long as you're willing to do it for them..."

"SHUT UP!" Larmina screamed, yanking the control rods as hard as she could. Blue Lion lunged under her own direction this time, missing the shadowy figure by inches.

"You don't like the truth?" Pidge vanished into the darkness again. "But it doesn't go away. And there's more... do you know what they're most afraid of? What terrifies them more than anything else?"

"I can't trace the signal." She was surprised and more than a little relieved to hear Vince; he sounded dazed, but hey, he had the presence of mind to be trying to trace the comms. "He must be using the energy of the lions for this, too. I can't block it."

It was a fair bet Pidge had heard that, but if he had he ignored it. "They're afraid of _you_ , cubs. They're afraid of Voltron. So long as they think they need you, they'll honor you as heroes. _You_ can fight. _You_ can die. _You_ can risk everything on their behalf. But none of those sacrifices will matter after this. Do you think they'll care about the reality, about the truth? Forget it. They will turn on you... you're just expendable tools."

Larmina's grip tightened on her controls; if she closed her eyes and focused really hard, she could pretend she was wringing their enemy's neck. But there was no blocking the voice out, no matter how hard she tried...

"Of course maybe they're right. Voltron _is_ a menace. You do at least realize that, right? All you have to do is look around you... it brings nothing but pain and conflict. Arus was razed over the mere rumor of its presence. My home planet was enslaved, my people reduced to mindless husks on the off chance they might hold some knowledge. Sky Marshal Wade held the Alliance in a grip of absolute terror, making the slightest dissent disappear, starving whole planets that refused to submit. All in Voltron's name. The galaxy would be better off without it, really."

Black Lion stalked to the edge of the ruins and let out a roar. As if Daniel had decided to just try to drown Pidge out, since nothing else seemed to be working.

"Have you heard enough? Think about it. Think carefully... Alvanar will be next. Twenty-four hours, cubs."

And the voice was gone.


	17. Impending Doom

Reawakening  
Chapter 14: Impending Doom

* * *

When they'd returned to the castle, Lance had actually told them to just go rest if they wanted to. No matter how much of a slave driver he was, he wouldn't work them after what had happened in Corrinton. But for once Larmina wished he would've. At least that would give them something to do, something to concentrate on. Anything but having to think about what they'd just seen. What their lions had just _done_.

Who could rest after that?

She'd ended up in the rec room, only to find Vince already there, sitting on the couch and brooding. One by one, the others had trickled in too. Nobody had said a word. But nobody wanted to be alone. And as much as she'd learned to rely only on herself, Larmina was just as glad to have company as anyone. Having a team was still a little weird. People she could actually see as equals, rather than a bunch of judgmental idiots trying to shove her into one mold or another. It was nice... even if the circumstances sucked.

Did they _ever_ suck.

Blue Lion was with her too, that presence she'd once bristled at having in her mind. Now it was maybe the most welcome of all. Not that Blue's mood was particularly comforting; she was both angry and and more than a little guilty. But considering that was exactly how Larmina felt, the commiseration helped.

Even Lance joined them after about an hour. One look around the room seemed to convince him not to say anything. Instead he just nodded to the group and sank into an empty chair, eyes smoldering.

"...He played us." Vince was the first to finally find his voice, to break the stifling silence. "He was perfectly capable of doing it himself. But he knew we'd be there... he set the trap and we walked right into it! Our lions! Our lions destroyed..." He trailed off. There was no need for him to finish, anyway; they all knew it good and well.

"How could he do that?" Daniel asked, voice dripping with disgust. "How could _he_ , of all people, do that to the lions?"

"He's desperate," Bruno observed. "We can't put anything past him. And we can't be distracted by his power. His real weapon is his knowledge."

 _Distracted?_ Larmina gave the cat man an odd look. "Sorry, but the power to hijack our lions out from under us is a _distraction?"_

"No." Next to her, Imam leaned forward, his golden eyes almost completely dim. "But the fact that he chose to do so is the true threat. He cannot defeat us by force, so he will attack our resolve and our reputation. Either to break our will, or turn those we protect against us."

"Which he's gotten off to a pretty good start with." Lance stood again, pacing. "I've been trying to explain what happened to the district leaders. I mean, not everything—basically I just told them the lions were sabotaged, didn't even get to the part where this is a blackmail attack. Most of them didn't even want to hear it. The ones that would listen still think Voltron's too dangerous to trust." Pause. "And I uh, kind of lied my ass off in my report to the Alliance, because really now."

The pilots exchanged uncomfortable glances behind their commander's back. Nobody had actually told Lance about Pidge's lecture after the destruction. None of them had wanted to believe.

 _Do you think they'll understand? Do you think they'll care about the reality, about the truth? Voltron is a menace._

Only a menace because of what _he'd_ done. But how were the civilians supposed to understand that? Larmina was pretty sure the nature of the lions couldn't be explained; she ought to know. How long had it taken her to accept them as something more than just dumb vehicles? Let alone trying to get _this_ across. Sure. Try to explain to the people that the giant robot protecting them had a spiritual relationship with its pilots so powerful it had accidentally turned one of the last Force into a demigod himself. That would go well.

And there was another element of Lance's words that stung. "Not even... one of the districts would side with us?" Her voice came out a bit shaky, and she mentally scolded herself for it. But despite everything...

Their commander turned to her, sympathy replacing the fire in his eyes. "No. Not one."

 _...Did you expect anything else? Did you really believe they'd stand up for you if the going got tough? The bastard_ was _right about that, just not for the reasons he thinks he was. It has nothing to do with Voltron. Some people are just assholes._

Daniel caught her eye and offered a sympathetic grimace, then she felt Imam's thin fingers on her shoulder. "Do not despair. We will make them see the truth."

"The hell with them, whether or not they see the truth." Saying it made her feel better, somehow. She'd never needed their approval before, why start worrying about it now? "Let's just get to the saving-the-planet thing."

"...Yes. Our first priority must be ensuring the safety of the people. Deny the enemy his leverage, somehow."

Lance nodded. "I warned Alvanar that they're next on the hit list, and offered them our help clearing out." He sighed. "They told us to stay the hell away, of course."

Daniel frowned. "We're not going to listen to that, right?"

"Normally I'd say no... but I did at least convince them to evacuate. If you show up, the lions could cause a panic that'll just make things worse." He scowled. "Used to be Arusians knew how to deal with a crisis. But seeing as how they've forgotten, we stay away for now and wait for them to call for help."

Vince lowered his eyes. "We've seen we can't stop Pidge in a direct confrontation anyway. Being there would just give him another weapon."

Larmina shot him a look. "So you want us to just roll over and give up?"

"I didn't say that! But we're gonna have to find some other way to beat him. Charging in where we're not wanted and might be a threat, just because we feel like we should be doing _something_ , doesn't help anyone."

"Yes. Better not to risk that. If they'd asked for our help that would be different." Bruno gave a low growl of concern. "Where will the people go? They won't want to come here."

"The district leadership said they have something in mind." Lance shook his head. "We can't help people who refuse to be helped. We have to focus on what we _can_ do." His eyes narrowed. "So for now, we'll start by repairing the damage the lions took in Corrinton. And you kids need to get some rest—I know that's not going to be easy, but you have to be ready to move as soon as we have a plan. We're not going to let him win like this, you got it?"

"Damn straight." Daniel stood up, sweeping his gaze over the group. "We'll find a way to beat this. We're the Voltron Force."

Answering nods greeted him. It wasn't the first time they'd been in what seemed like a hopeless situation; far from it. They'd always found a way before. There would be one now.

As Lance left, Vince looked around at his teammates. "So uh, before we worry about finding a way to stop Pidge... anyone got any ideas on finding a way to sleep?" He shuddered; Larmina couldn't blame him. He'd taken the worst of the 'battle', after all. But she wasn't sure she had any answers herself.

 _How do you sleep after failing that badly? How do you sleep after seeing..._

Nobody else seemed to know either, but nobody was moving to leave. Imam shifted nervously and Bruno hunched over further in his seat. Vince glanced around at each of them, one dark eyebrow arching quizzically. So much for all that confidence, apparently.

Daniel, still standing and wearing his Command Face, seemed just as much at a loss as anyone. Rather than looking at his fellow cadets he was studying... the furniture? Then a tentative smile took hold on his face.

"...Slumber party?"

* * *

Imam had never even heard of a slumber party. In fact it seemed like something of an oxymoron. _Does slumbering not put an end to any partying? Does a party not tend to inhibit slumber?_ But still, at Daniel's instruction they'd raided the nearest linen closet for pillows—and after that a military supply room, when he'd rejected the idea of just taking sheets and blankets back. Sleeping bags, he'd insisted, were essential.

Essential seemed like a rather strong word, but Imam was hardly the expert here. And however odd this endeavor might be, being with the team was far better than not.

He'd remained in his own quarters just long enough to whisper prayers to the Lords of the Dead. Such rituals usually comforted him... though after the devastation they had witnessed, of course comfort wasn't coming so easily. But more than that, a curious guilt was weighing on him. His team was tormented by what their lions had done. Completely understandable. But Yellow Lion hadn't participated in the slaughter, and his relief was balanced by guilt that he couldn't properly commiserate. It was that guilt which had driven him to the others—if his being spared gave him any strength that might aid them, of course he had to offer it.

Had their foe still been cloaked in the guise of Zeliax, Imam might've suspected this was yet another form of assault. An attempt to fracture the team by not forcing them to share that burden equally. But now that they knew the truth, he had another suspicion as to why his lion alone had not attacked...

"Hey!" Something large, white, and fluffy sailed through the air and smacked him in the face. "What did I say about brooding?"

Imam blinked, picking up the pillow Daniel had thrown at him. Had he said something? "My apologies sir, did you say something about brooding? I fear I may have been distracted by my, ah... brooding."

The others snickered.

"I said no brooding allowed at the slumber party!" Their leader had commandeered two sleeping bags and a recliner, and was sitting with one of the sleeping bags draped over him like a cape. But his expression became serious. "...Which I know isn't gonna be easy, guys. But we have to do something, right? Either we keep our spirits up somehow or we lose this fight before it starts."

"You're mental," Vince commented lightly from his spot on the floor, "but we all knew that already."

Larmina, on the couch next to him, smirked. "Totally."

"I'm willing to try it." Bruno was curled up on the largest couch in a manner that would've been perfectly suitable for the smallest one. "So is this what a 'slumber party' is? Just all piling into one room overnight?"

Ah, good. So he hadn't been the only one wondering about that.

"Well, you usually do party things." Daniel shrugged. "Watch movies, play games, have pillow fights, you know? Or Ailurians don't do that stuff either?"

"Not exactly." Shrug. "We grow up in creches. Sort of like living with a whole class. If we'd tried to throw a party at night the caretakers would have objected. Strenuously."

That was interesting... a bit disconcerting to even think about, though. Imam gave the Green Lion pilot a curious look. "Did you not have any privacy?"

"Of course. Out in the jungles. All the privacy you could want. Not at home with family." He tilted his head. "Human families are so small. Your people also?"

"Smaller, I should imagine." He'd heard of some humans who had very large families indeed; several of them had holo shows for some reason. "We are raised apart even from our own siblings, in order to better facilitate our connections to our ancestors and our own spirits. It is too easy for new students of necromancy become lost in the Essence, if they are not raised in such solitude."

Larmina looked intrigued. "Yeah? My parents kept me away from my sister, too. Course in my case it was because she's the big important heir and I, apparently, am just extra baggage." Snort. "And you know what royalty considers a party? Ballroom dancing and tiny egg rolls on silver platters. _Boring_."

"Ewwww. That's not a party, that's more like a prison sentence." Daniel made a face, then looked over at Vince. "What about you, Magic Man? Do Technomancers get raised by robots? Please say you were raised by robots."

Vince pressed a palm to his forehead. "Dude, you get that we're actually still human, right? I mean, 'Technomancer' is more like a nationality." Then he paused and reconsidered. "...Or uh, Red's been kind of telling me that's not quite true, but as far as most of us know we're human." That got him several interested looks, but he didn't seem inclined to elaborate. "I did have a pet robot dog, does that count?"

"Hmmm..." Daniel made a great show of considering that, then nodded. "Sure, it'll do. Did you at least give it a clever robot name?"

A dark blush sprang to the other pilot's cheeks. "...His name was Gary."

 _"Gary?"_ Looking deeply affronted, their leader pitched a pillow at him, too. "Gary! Really?"

"What's wrong with Gary?" Vince threw the pillow back. Imam wondered if this was the pillow fight that had been referenced earlier. "What would you have named it?"

"Anything but Gary! You had the whole world of awful robot puns available to you and you went with Gary! How about Sbarky? ROM-bone? Hell, Subwoofer would've been better!" He tossed the pillow again.

Except this time his aim was a bit off, and it ended up hitting Larmina. Or more to the point, approaching Larmina until she caught it at the last second, jumped up, and smacked him over the head with it. "Watch where you're aiming! And all of those names are _stupid_."

"So is Gary!"

"You know, that's it." Vince grabbed his own pillow and charged. "Make fun of me all you want, but I _will_ defend my robopup's honor!" Just for good measure, he clobbered them both.

 _Ah. So_ that _is a pillow fight!_

Imam glanced over and caught Bruno's eye; the cat man returned the look and shrugged. "What do you think? Mediate or assimilate?"

"I believe this may be the very idea of a slumber party, despite the fact that it does not seem to involve slumber at all. We certainly should not attempt to impede it."

"Hmm." Nodding, Bruno grabbed two of the spare pillows they'd brought in. "You may be right. Only one thing to do then. Isn't there?"

For a moment he wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to be fun about this. Were they not a military unit? A military unit that was currently losing its war, no less? Surely they had better things to do than pulverize each other with large sacks of feathers? But even as he wondered that, the absurdity of the situation took hold, and despite himself a grin started to cross his face. "I think that is so, my friend." He slid out of his sleeping bag and took one of the spare pillows himself. And as Bruno turned to face the others, Imam swung at his back with all his might.

"...Hey!"

The next second he was running for his dignity, if not his life, bounding over the couch with a mock-enraged Ailurian charging after him. And _laughing_. Why not? They needed this. Daniel was right. Yes, they were facing annihilation together... but if the enemy would strike at their morale and try to divide them, this would be their greatest weapon.

 _We may or may not be defeated, but we will not be broken._

* * *

 _Stubborn. What to expect? It_ is _Lance._

Pidge stood on one of the cliffs overlooking Alvanar. It was a large port city in a river valley, nestled in between rushing water and sheer rock. A lovely place, really... but utterly at the mercy of the elements. They were about to learn just how tenuous that mercy could be.

He'd tried to contact the Castle of Lions. To ask if they were prepared to surrender yet. They hadn't answered, so presumably that was a no. What must it be like? Locked down within the castle, their own planet turning against them, knowing it was only going to get worse. Nothing to do with themselves but dwell on the terrible failure that mocked them from every shadow, and wait for the next blow...

Pidge shuddered, clutching his own arms against the chill suddenly rippling through him. Oh, he knew. He knew _so_ well. Failure had been his constant companion for three and a half centuries. His only companion.

 _At least they have each other!_

He forced himself to throw the chill off, eyes hardening as he looked out over the city. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to just break, give in—supposed to do their damned _duty_ , to sacrifice for the lives of their people! That was what his team would've done, wasn't it? But apparently these cubs would take more convincing.

So be it.

"This is on _you_ ," he whispered to the phantom presence of the new Voltron Force. "I have no choice."

Closing his eyes, he reached out to the elements. The river was filled with boats, more than he'd ever seen in one place on Arus; he assumed they'd been warned to evacuate. Unfortunately that couldn't be allowed. He commanded the water to churn and swirl, subtle at first, but rapidly increasing in power as he steeled himself. The wild currents began to throw ships onto the banks, the transports crashing into the docks and some riverside warehouses.

From here he couldn't hear the screams he knew must be rising. One small mercy.

There was no need to drag it out. As the water raged, thick black clouds began to gather over the pass. Wind, rain, and lightning all seemed to erupt at once—a storm of impossible power springing forth from a sky that had been clear only minutes ago.

It would've been so easy to call the earth as well. To bring the surrounding cliffs down on this pass in an avalanche, and end it all in a matter of minutes. Easier for him, faster. But he couldn't do it. Not even to be done with this massacre more quickly.

He couldn't kill with the earth...

Closing his eyes, Pidge turned away from Alvanar, clenching his fists against the memories. And behind him, the storm raged on.

* * *

For a few hours they'd almost been able to pretend things were normal. As normal as they ever got on Arus, anyway.

Of course _that_ couldn't last.

Returning to Control after repairs they found a sensor alert flashing for attention. For a moment Lance was confused, then swore as he realized what must've happened—they'd worked straight through the time of the next ultimatum. _But wait, how?_ They'd had the lions in the hangar, bracing for the alarms that would surely sound when it began, ready to head out at a moment's notice. The alarms had never gone off. This was nothing but an alert, an indication the sensor network had picked up something unusual.

... _They didn't call us_. It was the only explanation. He really hoped it was because they'd successfully cleared out, and not because they were that damn stubborn. And yet... he couldn't help remembering when his team had first arrived on Arus. _Not like we were welcomed with open arms_. The situations had been almost exactly opposite; the people then had been wounded and wary, now they were soft and complacent. But one thing remained constant.

Arusians _were_ stubborn bastards.

Gesturing for the kids to join him, he approached the main console and brought up the area of the alert. Yep, it was Alvanar. Or at least it used to be Alvanar.

"Holy hells..."

The city was obliterated. Where Corrinton had looked like a battleground—as it sort of had been—Alvanar had been all but pounded to dust. A light rain was still falling, washing splintered debris into the river. The water was already choked with it. In several places, particularly large clumps of wreckage were trailing crimson streaks into the water.

Vince and Bruno both averted their eyes, while Imam's impassive gaze flickered slightly. Daniel and Larmina both snarled and took up reflexive combat stances, as if there were anything to fight. For his part, all Lance could do was stare at the screen and swear vehemently under his breath. Part of him had been clinging to the hope, however slim, that Pidge still wouldn't carry the act out personally. Not that he'd really believed in that hope. But now it was well and truly shot, and he was getting well and truly furious all over again.

 _So now what?_

"Now what?" Larmina echoed his thoughts. "We can't let this go on!"

"And we can't surrender Voltron." Daniel glared at the screen. "Maybe we can fake it? Set a trap somehow?"

"That could work. Any ideas?"

"I have one," Imam offered quietly. "It is deeply unpleasant, and I dislike it, but it is the only thing coming to mind."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Ideas are better than no ideas. Let's hear it."

"Our enemy is infused with Voltron's energy. Nothing we do seems to harm him, but did we not see Emperor Kargil's attacks? Haggarium clearly had a powerful effect. If the Emperor's source was found on this planet, there may be other remnants we could employ... to incapacitate him at the least."

The team's silence had gone from curious and respectful to deadly and smothering as he spoke. All eyes were locked on him in sheer disbelief. "Let me get this straight," Vince finally stammered. "You want us— _us_ —the _Voltron Force_ —to go dig up some haggarium and use it as a weapon?"

Daniel didn't look a whole lot more enthused by the idea, but after a few moments he found his voice. "He's right. It's the only weapon we've seen work. We'll know what we're dealing with, and we'll have the lions to keep us grounded." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else. "We can do this. We can totally do this!"

"Whatever it takes," Larmina agreed. "Whatever we have to do to keep Arus safe."

Bruno growled softly, his tail whipping. "This idea is an atrocity. But desperation drives atrocities." For a moment his eyes flickered back to the monitor. "We don't have a choice. Do we?"

"When you put it that way... maybe not."

"I don't think so."

"None are presenting themselves at this time."

Lance waited to see if they were finished. It was better to let them sort things out for themselves when they could, and he had to admit, they were improving every day. Getting more skilled _and_ more devious. But in the end, he was still in charge here, and as the cadets ran down they all turned to him.

The thought of this made his guts churn something fierce. Haggarium. That vile power had made their lives hell, in more ways than one. He'd seen it firsthand in a way even their encounter with Kargil couldn't have taught the cubs. He'd seen it warp Sven into someone unrecognizable, and nearly kill him when Blue Lion finally purged the foul stuff from his blood. He'd seen it reduce a whole planetary population to rabid beasts, with no lion bonds to save them. He'd seen it build an army that had come all too close to engulfing the galaxy...

Part of him wondered what Keith would've done. Part of him wasn't up for that kind of old-team nostalgia under the circumstances.

"...Haggarium's ability to corrupt is beyond anything you can imagine. The lions can protect you from it to an extent, but you're still going to need to be very careful. We'll have to work with it in shifts, make sure nobody is exposed for too long." Lance closed his eyes. "But you're right. It's the only way."

 _And what will we do if it succeeds? Use the stuff to imprison him forever? Sentence him to an eternity of the same memories that've driven him insane in the first place? That's not appropriate Voltron Force idealism._

No. There would be time to wonder that later. Right now they had to stop Pidge and save Arus. After that, well...

 _He claims he's doing what he must. So will we_.

"Okay." Vince approached the holotank, grim determination replacing the uncertainty on his face. "Let's track down some essence of evil, then. Be a little anticlimactic if all that goes wrong with this plan is not being able to find any, right?"

"Always with the sunny optimism." Daniel didn't seem totally committed to the joke, but at least he was trying.

"Always!"

"Shall I seek to consult with Yellow Lion?" Imam asked, stepping up to one of the other consoles. "He may have some insight, if the foul substance is buried beneath the earth."

"Might not be necessary." Bruno crossed his arms. "Best bet would be our own last battlefield. Where Kargil landed."

"Good point." Vince frowned. "Course I'm not totally sure where he did land, we gave him an awfully good kick."

Larmina smirked.

They were all quiet for a minute, watching the holotank's display zoom through the complex; they'd booted the emperor to the edge of the facility. "Okay, got something... huh. That's odd."

If there was anything Lance had always hated to hear from whoever was on radar duty, it was _that's odd_. "What's wrong?"

"There's some residual traces of haggarium here." He zoomed in a little. "But look, it's like the stuff's been moving somehow." Sure enough, a thin trickle of violet was visible, extending a pretty fair distance as the scanners followed it. "It's seeped underground. I'm not sure this is enough for us to use, but we should probably at least get Voltron out there and neutralize these traces bef..." He fell silent as the holotank image seemed to become very foggy, and started frantically typing on the console.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Vince? What happened, you lose it?"

"No. There's still a signature there, but it's... massive. Too massive. It's messing with the scans, are we sure this is calibrated right?" He zeroed in on the foggy area and froze. "Uh, scratch that. It's intensifying. Like, really fast."

 _Of course it is._ "Where?"

"About fifty miles out. It's in the mountains, looks like a canyon in the middle of the range."

Lance knew there was something he had to be missing here. It probably had to do with the future being stupid. Maybe they'd put irrigation systems between the lake and the mountains, or something. Or then again, it might just be the haggarium alone—even trace amounts could cause havoc, who was to say it couldn't migrate like this all by its damn self? There was only one thing he could be absolutely sure of.

"You'd better go check it out."

* * *

Every time they thought they had an answer, things just had to get more complicated. Daniel was pretty tired of complications. Drule warships? Laughable. Robeasts? No big deal. Politics? Annoying. Insane ex-pilots? No thanks.

Haggarium? Screw that, seriously.

As the lions moved in on the location of the haggarium readings, he noticed his sensors beginning to act up. Just little crackles of static, wavering anomalies that flickered for a second or two... but even that was very strange for Black Lion. And they'd lost contact with Lance, because of course, why wouldn't they? _I've got a bad feeling about this_. He wasn't about to admit that out loud, of course. Someone around here had to show a little confidence. But he was pretty sure they weren't going to like whatever they found.

Coming around the side of a mountain peak, they confirmed Daniel's suspicions. And _how_.

"Holy gods!"

"By all the ancestors..."

"What the hell is that thing?"

The looming creature in the canyon was nearly all bone and muscle, with just enough of its shredded skin left to be vaguely recognizable as Kargil—vaguely. He was buried up to his chest in the earth; rather than arms ten thick tentacles had sprouted from his shoulders, half of them rooted deep in the ground, the other half flailing about and tearing at the landscape around him. What little was left of it, anyway.

Oh, and he was about a thousand feet tall. That too.

"There you are! Finally!" His voice was a deep rumble edged in more than a little madness. "I've been waiting for you, Voltron Force... come! Show me your might! I would enjoy some entertainment before I tear this world apart!"

 _Uh huh_. Daniel spun around. "I think we need a brief tactical retreat, guys!" None of them had to be told twice.

"Today on Wild Arus," Larmina announced sardonically as they took cover behind the mountain, "we have the insane zombified giant emperor squid. It is _not_ native to this planet."

Smirk. "Deranged Drule zookeeper strikes again." He tried to keep up a confident tone, though all he really managed was to not sound too panicked. "Sooooo... anyone wanna tell me how we didn't find this until we were looking for it?"

"I think he's so powerful he overwhelmed our perimeter sensors altogether," Vince offered. "This close even I'm having trouble getting a solid read."

"Awesome. Good thing we won't need sensors to hit him." Daniel swallowed hard, digging for the confidence the team needed right now, and to his own surprise found it. _We're the Voltron Force._ This _is what we do_. Finally they were back to having an enemy they could actually _fight_. "So he's bigger, tougher, uglier, and even more of a grandstanding moron. Anything else we need to know?"

"He is not grandstanding, sir." Imam sounded more worried than Daniel had ever heard him. "Nearly all of his increasing power is causing the burrowing tendrils to lengthen, and they are moving towards the planet's core. By the time they reach it, he will be more than strong enough to do as he claims."

Oh. Well then. Things just got better and better around here, didn't they?

"For what it's worth, I think I figured out how he got here. There's a huge underground lake on my geo charts. The residual haggarium must've gotten into the groundwater and spread."

Daniel was sure someone would find Vince's report interesting, but that someone wasn't him, unless... "Any way we can use that to kill him?"

"Not sure. Maybe if we freeze the water? That chemical analysis Pidge sent us indicates this stuff really shouldn't like cold."

"Handy! I'm kind of good with cold." Blue Lion stepped up, fangs bared. "You get me to the water, I'll chill him out."

"I believe that can be arranged." Yellow Lion dove into the earth as if it were water itself, burrowing a narrow tunnel into the rock.

Blue hesitated a moment at the entrance, sticking one paw in and then withdrawing it. "Oh. Um, okay thanks, Imam, I'll be right behind you... in a minute..."

"Larmina." Bruno came up beside her. "There's nothing to fear. You've become a skilled pilot. Believe that."

"He's right." Daniel pushed Black up on Larmina's other side, shooting her an encouraging grin through the cockpit glass. "You're one of us, one of the Voltron Force. You're the Blue Lion! You fly with us—with _her—_ because you earned it. So go get 'im, Mean Mina."

"What they said," Vince agreed.

For a moment Larmina was silent, then she snorted and flipped Blue's head around. "I can almost _feel_ the man-hugs, which, I'll break you in half if you ever actually try it. Thanks, guys. I'm going!" And with a roar her lion charged into the tunnel.

Vince chuckled as she vanished into the earth. "She still seems nice."

She did have her moments.

* * *

Larmina pushed Blue down the tunnel on Imam's tail, eyes narrowed in concentration as she threaded the rock walls pressing in all around her. The focus almost kept her from registering the hot blush gathered in her cheeks. On the heels of her parents' rejection, maybe the others' words had hit even more powerfully.

Yeah, this _team_ thing. She could get used to it. Now it was time to be a good teammate and save her planet... and Voltron.

In the darkness ahead, a violet glow was becoming visible. Yellow Lion's silhouette was framed at the end of the tunnel. "We have reached the lake," Imam reported as she approached. "I do not think this generally bothers you, but you should be warned the sight is... unpleasant."

 _Yeah, well_. "The part of him that's above ground isn't exactly winning any beauty contests either." She moved up into the mouth of a large cavern, half filled with glowing purple water. At first it looked like an awfully small cave, until she realized the far wall was pulsating. And slimy and raw and... "...Oh! Lovely! We've found his guts!"

"Indeed." Yellow turned to face her. "Let us see what you can do."

Nodding grimly, Larmina routed all the power she could to Blue's weapons, then triggered her ice breath and aimed it right at Kargil's stomach. The pale glow of her lion's breath cut through the freakish light of the haggarium, leaving a trail of frost in the water. And then it struck.

The whole cavern shook with a howl of shock and fury. _Holy gods!_ She nearly fell into the haggarium lake; if Yellow hadn't clamped its jaws down on Blue's tail she probably would've. "So uh, I think I made him uncomfortable."

"To put it mildly."

She couldn't sustain this. Between the haggarium and the energy she was expending on her attacks, Blue's power levels were already dropping fast. Still, she couldn't just stop. _We'll do as much damage as we can, and go from there._ Another ice blast followed the first. Was it her imagination, or was the haggarium becoming a little less bright where the ice had taken hold?

Again the earth shook, and suddenly Imam did something she'd never heard him do before. He _yelled_.

"Larmina! MOVE!"

 _Move where?_ Her reflexes didn't wait for her to figure that out; Blue sprang forward, hovering over the ugly purple lake. "What's—"

The ceiling exploded. Two massive tentacles had pierced the earth, seeking them out. And they were _fast_. One zeroed in on her before she could even try to retreat further, wrapping around Blue's midsection in an iron grip. Yellow launched all its weapons at the other tentacle but accomplished exactly nothing. The awful thing didn't even slow as it caught the other lion, and then Larmina felt her stomach drop. Faster than even Daniel would probably enjoy moving, Kargil yanked them back up through the thick layers of earth and into daylight. Such as it was. As close to him as they were, the haggarium glow was even outshining the sun.

"Ah, so that's where you ran off to!" He lifted them up to his face, leering. "Pitiful children. Did you think you could escape me? Did you think you could defy the lord of the Drule Empire without consequence?"

 _Shame his vocal cords aren't as shredded up as the rest of him. He might just talk us to death._ Larmina glowered out the cockpit glass, then dropped her crosshairs over one of those huge glowing eyes and let loose with everything Blue Lion had.

Her instruments actually couldn't make sense of what happened next, and simply showed the attacks fizzling out. But since she was looking out the window she saw what really happened. The glow of Kargil's eyes went from yellow to violet, and everything she'd launched dissolved in a haggarium fog.

 _Oh. Well that's not good_...

The next second that fog reached out and enveloped the two lions, and Larmina howled in pain as her whole cockpit filled with violet fire.

"Yes! Suffer!" he laughed as the energy ripped through them. "Scream for me, insects! Scream until the moment you watch your planet shatter!"

Oh, she was screaming alright. Her whole body was on fire—hell, she was hurting in places she hadn't known _could_ hurt. Blue's alarms were eerily silent; the haggarium had damn near forced her lion into shutdown. Blue herself was much less silent. She could feel that presence in the back of her mind, struggling against the haggarium with her, trying to insulate her from the worst of its power. She could only imagine how bad this would be otherwise..

It was not lost on her that he could've just crushed Blue like a soda can if he'd wanted to. Oh no, that would be too easy for this bastard, wouldn't it? _You'd think he'd have learned his lesson about that_. She fumbled for her weapons through the pain, but the controls were unresponsive. _Then again_...

An impact rocked her all of a sudden, though it wasn't anything Kargil had done. Black and Green Lions had both slammed into the tentacle holding her. "Oh hi... guys! Come to... join the party?"

"Like it's ever a party without us!" Daniel sank Black's fangs into the rotting skin and poured lightning into it, while Bruno fired a whirlwind straight at Blue. It worked; the tendril didn't seem damaged, but the combination of shock and pressure made it convulse just enough to drop her.

Of course there was the small issue of her controls still being shot. _Hells_. But as she plummeted Red Lion swooped out of nowhere and grabbed Blue by the back of its neck. "Gotcha!"

"Nice catch." She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. "That could've gone better."

"Oh yeah? You mean that wasn't the plan?"

Daniel and Bruno had moved on to try to free Imam, but another tentacle moved in and swatted them both into the ground. "Nothing but gnats, all of you! Sting all you like!"

"I... don't think gnats actually sting," Vince protested to no one in particular as he deposited Blue Lion on the ground. "Pretty sure they bite."

"Is this really the time for semantics?" Daniel demanded, springing back into action. Bruno followed, the air rippling around Green as he fired another wind burst. "Just get ready to catch again, sheesh."

Red twitched in a way that Larmina was pretty sure was meant to be a shrug, then launched after them. "I like accuracy!"

She had finally regained some control, but Blue was almost completely drained. She didn't have a whole lot she could add to the rescue attempt like this. But maybe... the haggarium really _hadn't_ seemed to like cold. "Got one more freeze blast in you, Blue?" she asked as she turned, and grinned savagely as her lion returned an affirmative. "Then let's do this."

From here she could see straight up through Kargil's ribcage, which was more than a little gross, and as she edged forward she realized little bits of rotted flesh were actually falling off of him. _Ugh. I'm going to end up with Drule on my windshield again._ But what really mattered was that she could see through to his heart. That seemed like a pretty good thing to shoot at.

Turning around, she snapped off a shot with Blue's freeze tail and ran like hell.

"Insolence!" Two tentacles slammed to the ground just behind her, the impact actually throwing her further forward.

"You better believe it." Much as she would've liked to shoot back, she had no weapon power to do it with, so she settled for flipping him off over her shoulder as Blue Lion raced for cover. Range was their one advantage here. Though how long would that advantage last? The tentacles he'd kept above ground were definitely getting longer too. A few more hours and he would probably be able to start reaching mountain settlements.

Great. Like they hadn't been having enough trouble with _one_ lunatic destroying Arus bit by bit.

As she made it back around the mountain she saw the others fleeing after her. Red and Black were straight-up carrying Yellow along, while Green trailed just behind using its wind breath to speed them along. With two of the haggarium tendrils surging just behind them, they cleared the peak and dropped to the ground next to her. "...Dude."

"You said it."

"Completely." Bruno turned Green around, peering around the edge of the rocks. "He isn't trying to follow."

"Well." Vince had dialed up his most nonchalant tone. "That's good. Here I was afraid we might be in trouble."

Yellow twitched a bit where the others had set it down. "I fear the fiend has fully drained my energy. Larmina, how is yours?"

"Close to zero." She grimaced. "I know one of us can get a jump from forming Voltron, but two? Is that pushing it?"

Vince fielded that. "Hard to say. I mean, power levels would equalize, but with two lions dry it'll have a serious effect on Voltron's performance. And I think we're gonna need every bit we can get to deal with this, but I'm not in charge here. Daniel? Do we try it?"

Daniel was quiet for a long time. That actually told them the answer before he spoke. If it were a yes he wouldn't have hesitated, because he was Daniel, and forming Voltron was kind of a big deal to him still. But after what they'd just seen there was really only one option, and even he knew it.

"...No. Back to the castle. Let's get everyone charged up... and we're gonna need a plan."


	18. Bargain With the Devil

Reawakening  
Chapter 15: Bargain With the Devil

* * *

 _Shouldn't the future have better sensors?_

Lance had lost track of the lions as soon as they reached the mountains, and he was fairly certain it wasn't because of the mountains themselves. Probably couldn't fairly blame the future for not having haggarium-resistant equipment, but whatever. Nothing about this was fair to him or his team, may as well return the favor. And losing contact made him even more uneasy than usual. Haggarium could certainly cause all sorts of weird interference, but...

 _What's going on out there?_

Maybe he could steer another observation satellite into place. It was sure as hell better than sitting here wondering. _Okay, let's do that._ He crossed over to the holotank and started pushing buttons. _I'm turning into a sensor geek! The shame_.

Halfway through maneuvering the satellite, instinct told him to turn. It was something less than a fully-formed thought, less than even the trickle of ice running down his spine. But with everything else going insane around him, Lance's instincts were one thing he was positive he could still trust—maybe the only thing.

He spun, and found Pidge standing behind him.

 _Damn ninja!_

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" he demanded, dropping into a defensive stance he knew would be patently useless. Hell, he couldn't even throw a punch again— _though why not? You've already got a cast on_. Not a whole lot left to lose there.

"I came to tell you Galedon is next," his unwelcome guest answered, apparently undisturbed by Lance's hostility. Of course he was. What threat was it to him? "Unless you're finally ready to put an end to this nonsense."

"Nonsense, huh? Glad you can see that. Maybe that should tell _you_ something?"

"You can stop this, Lance!" His voice was a little ragged. "You can't win, just admit it! Admit it and nobody else has to die!"

 _Yeah. If only it were that simple_. "You mean nobody else has to die to you, right now, but the hell with everyone who'll die without Voltron to protect them!"

Pidge's expression darkened. "Keith wouldn't sacrifice so many people for his stubbornness, you know. Allura sure as hell wouldn't."

Keith? Questionable, but possible. Allura? Probably true. _And you got just as annoyed as any of us with her "illogical idealism," didn't you?_ "Yeah, well I'm not Keith, as I spent an awful long time hearing from Wade and everyone else. And I'm pretty sure I'm also not Allura, because I would've noticed if I were rocking a dress."

He didn't find that funny, of course. "Then Galedon's blood will be on _your_ hands."

"No. Don't you even try that crap." Lance glowered. "You're not going to pin this on me. Every bit of this has been your decision, ever since _you_ _decided_ to blow the hell out of the Dread Palace!"

That had probably been a bad idea. But if he wanted to make this personal, he would _get_ personal.

"HUNK WAS DEAD!" A flare of energy caused the image in the holotank to dissolve into static. "What else were we going to do without him, exactly? Count on the Alliance fleet? What would've happened to the rest of you if I _hadn't_ triggered the overload?"

...That, Lance admitted in a detached corner of his mind, was actually an excellent question. Not that it made it through the anger. "Oh right, I'm sure _that_ was your reasoning. Is that what you've been telling yourself? Always with the logic, right? That's why you—" He was cut off by the chutes opening. _Huh?_ Distracted by Pidge, he hadn't even noticed the lions coming back into monitor range, let alone returning to the dens. And from the look on the kids' faces the news was not good.

Of course, noticing he had company didn't improve things any. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Pidge's demeanor iced over instantly as he turned to Daniel. "We were having a private conversation."

"Oh yeah? Well if you want a private conversation in _our_ house you can either ask nicely or—"

"Both of you shut up! We have a way bigger problem right now!"

Daniel fell silent, scowling at Larmina but nodding in acknowledgment. Somewhat more surprising, Pidge actually didn't snap at her either; he looked more than a little taken aback. Lance arched an eyebrow and decided to take what he could get. "Okay. So I'm sure I'll regret asking this, but what bigger problem do we have, exactly?"

"Kargil." Vince looked at the static-filled holotank. "The haggarium infected an underground lake. Now he's back as this freaky squid monster that's getting ready to rip Arus apart."

...Yeah. That was a pretty big problem.

* * *

There was no way to fully get across to Lance the horror of what they'd just seen, so Vince really hadn't even tried. The bare facts were bad enough. Also weird enough, to be honest. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he wouldn't have even been able to deliver that report with a straight face.

"We had to return," Imam followed up when Lance didn't immediately respond. "He had drained two of our lions of power, and we are uncertain how to proceed. Our attacks were almost entirely ineffective."

"Almost entirely, huh? Beats entirely entirely, let's start there. I don't suppose anyone thought to grab a picture of this freaky squid monster? What was the almost?"

"He's multi-leveled," Larmina muttered. "Most of him's underground. We found the lake and shoved some ice into his guts, he didn't like it, but he hit back way harder."

"Wonderful."

"We need a plan." Daniel started pacing, just like Lance did so often. "He's really big, so we've got that going for us, he's pretty easy to hit. Just he doesn't really _care_ that we're hitting him. What do we do? How did your team deal with this stuff, anyway?"

Lance considered that. "We only ever found a couple of things that were effective against haggarium. Cold was one, to a certain extent. Mostly we had to rely on how it clashed with Voltron's energy—apply it in the right place and you can take down something with more raw power. Course that usually depended on functional deep scans."

"And having enough power to exploit the weak points! Sure at full strength _you_ could do it, but even last time the only way we beat Kargil was..." Vince trailed off as he realized what he was about to say. Everyone else obviously realized it also. Because he'd barely even gone silent before all eyes had turned to the last person in the room, the one who'd been silent since they arrived but hadn't actually left.

"Pidge." Lance had that cold command tone again, eyes falling on his former teammate.

A completely impassive look answered him. "What?"

"Oh don't you give us that 'what' bullshit. You know _what_. You really want to see this lunatic tear Arus to shreds?"

"...It isn't my problem. You wanted to keep Voltron, to defend against other threats. So go." Pidge swept his derisive gaze over them. "Go get destroyed by _him_ , and be quick about it."

"One problem, genius." Larmina speared him with her most disgusted glare. "He's about as interested in actually destroying Voltron now as he was the last time."

"Indeed. Perhaps less." Imam's eyes dimmed. "He wishes us to witness his victory, he will not destroy us beforehand. Is that not why you aided us previously?"

"Yes." Shrug. "But it doesn't sound like he's in any position to be taking trophies now. Either you'll annoy him enough to destroy you intentionally, or you'll go up with the rest of Arus. Either will suffice."

 _What? ...He really is willing to sacrifice the whole planet for this..._

It had been building since Corrinton. A mix of anger and frustration and despair, combining into something more volatile than any could be alone. And now Vince finally lost his temper. "Listen, you selfish bastard! You only want to worry about you? Fine! So you cut us loose and he shrugs us off and rips the core apart. You really want to count on Voltron being annihilated by that? On not even a little bit of the Nexus being left intact? Because think about what happens if you're wrong. You'll be stuck here. Floating in the ruins of Arus forever. Nothing to do but _think_. You think you've got it bad now? It's not even _close_ to being bad for you yet!"

Silence.

For an instant, something flickered in Pidge's eyes that was far different from his usual contempt or icy rage. It was absolute terror. And in that moment, Vince really could bring himself to feel sorry for the former Green Lion, trapped in this miserable existence.

It was only a moment.

"...Fine." Pidge closed his eyes and the terror was gone, and with it the empathy. "Fine. I'll help you. But you saw how logistics worked out the last time; I'll have to ride with you."

"Now wait just a second." Daniel's expression darkened. "Who says we trust you to do that, huh? You could help us finish Kargil off, then kill all of us and destroy Voltron while you're there."

A nod. "I suppose that's a risk you'll have to take."

"Then forget it. We'll do this without you. At least if we fail, you'll be the only one stuck with a fate _worse_ than death."

Larmina punched him. "Daniel!"

"No, he has a point." Imam spoke tentatively, even more than when he'd suggested using haggarium and gotten all this started. "The Imperial fleet is still waiting in orbit. If Voltron is destroyed, they will be free to enslave this planet... and without Emperor Kargil's madness impeding them, most likely many others. I am sure you must know how the Empire treats their slaves." He looked around. "If we do fail, the destruction of Arus would also destroy their fleet. The death toll would be vast, but it would only be death. And the threat would be neutralized."

Everyone just stared at him. Even Lance, who'd surely known that sort of detachment was a Ghostwalker thing. Even Pidge, who perhaps looked more shocked than any of them. "...Your logic is impeccable."

Imam gave a slight bow. "Despite our animosity, given the source I consider that a great honor."

Larmina blinked away her shock and turned to Pidge herself. "Well?"

He was quiet for a minute, then nodded, frowning at the monitors. "If that's how it's going to be... then I'll offer you a gesture of good faith. I worked for Kargil from the moment he arrived here, knowing full well what he was. You must imagine I arranged some contingencies." He crossed over to the communications console, typing in a few codes.

On the main screen, the sky above Arus exploded, and several of the team recoiled as if it had actually been right next to them.

"What the hell was that?" Daniel demanded.

"That was the destruction of the Drule fleet," Pidge answered evenly. "The only threat left to Arus is Kargil. Your mission is otherwise complete. Now... I will go with you."

It was all Vince could do not to start yelling at him; truthfully, all that stopped him was he couldn't figure out what he wanted to say. They were Drules, after all, the same ones that had been trying to kill them all this time. Sure, he'd been uneasy about killing them himself, but shouldn't that make him more happy to see someone else take care of it? But maybe that was the problem... _he_ shouldn't care about them. They were his enemies. They'd been Pidge's allies, and he'd just destroyed them all without blinking.

"...Everything's just a pawn to you now, isn't it?" Lance asked softly, putting voice to the same crawling unease that had welled up in Vince's guts. "People's lives are nothing but tools for you to use..."

Pidge met his gaze coldly. "Watch a few generations pass you by, Lance. Watch as everyone around you grows, and changes, and finally dies, only to be replaced with new faces that do the same. Realize that even if you could somehow get close to one, they'll just vanish into time before you know it. Maybe then you can lecture me on the value of life." He looked away. "...I'm not proud of it. But I told you already, I will do what I must."

Everyone stared at him for another long moment, then Imam nodded grimly. "So must we. We have no choice."

"Fine." Larmina crossed her arms. "Who's stuck carrying the backstabbing jackass, then? He's not getting near Blue."

"He can ride with me." Bruno ran a paw over his voltcom. "He may be terribly fallen from grace. But Green Lion would welcome the return of her warrior. I have no fear."

That earned him a startled look from Pidge, but Daniel spoke before their grudging ally could respond to the offer. "No. If he's coming along he's riding with me. _I'm_ the Black Lion, the leader of the Voltron Force. If someone has to take the risk... then it's my job, and I won't chicken out of it."

Lance studied him for a long minute, then looked over the rest of them. "...Okay. If you're all willing to do this... okay."

Vince swallowed hard, reading that look. _He doesn't think we're going to come back from this_. He was probably right. Pidge had as good as said so, hadn't he? But this was what they'd signed on for, wasn't it? To give their lives, if necessary. To give up everything. Maybe even to sacrifice Voltron for Arus' safety after all... he felt that energy flickering inside of him, as if Red Lion were trying to reassure him somehow, and frowned. Remembering.

 _I want to be that strong_...

He couldn't fear. Kargil had to be stopped, above all. After that, well... they would see what unfolded, wouldn't they? Like they always had. _Somehow we'll find a way. We're the Voltron Force_.

Daniel looked around one more time, nodding. He looked very serious, and that always meant things had really gotten heavy. But his tone was strong and confident. "To the lions, everyone. Let's do this."

* * *

 _It never changes, does it? No plan survives contact with reality. Some plans just go a lot more wrong than others._

Pidge looked out the tinted glass of Black Lion's left eye, taking in the sky above them. A sky that had once held a fearsome threat, now washed away in fire. The Drules had never had a chance, really. Not since Kargil had first accepted his aid against Voltron. He'd been preparing to take them down with him since that moment. Of _course_ they were nothing but pawns.

It had always been the plan, so why was it bothering him so much?

Serek.

The young prince's words kept ringing through his mind. _Maybe if you destroy the fleet you'll be doing us a favor. Maybe if we would stop worrying about warfare and glory, the homeworlds could thrive._

How many aboard those ships had been like him? Misguided, but seeing the truth as Kargil stormed forth with haggarium raging in his blood? Telok had seemed to be getting there. But if Serek's message had not died with him, it had certainly died with the fleet. Nobody was left to carry it home to their empire.

"You'd better sit down, because I'm launching whether it'll be comfy for you or not."

The black cub's voice briefly snapped him out of his thoughts; Pidge shot him an icy look as he dropped into Black Lion's jump seat. "Get on with it."

He was pretty sure the cub's name was Daniel, but refused to think of him as such. Names had power. As long as he kept them as depersonalized as possible in his head, the new Force could remain abstractions, and whatever he ultimately had to do, well...

That had been an unavoidable mistake with Serek, too. Part of him wondered if he actually would've been able to destroy the fleet if the prince had still lived. Not that it mattered now... they'd outlived their usefulness, in any case. There were ways to destroy Voltron from within. They simply required the robot be fully formed, and he'd certainly never expected to get that opportunity.

Now? Well, he hadn't lied to the cubs. If they didn't realize they were trading Voltron for Kargil's defeat, they weren't nearly as clever as he'd been giving them credit for. But he'd given them his word, as well, and he really didn't want to see Arus destroyed if it weren't necessary. So until Kargil was down, he was committed to this.

...Besides, he had to admit there were less enjoyable people to be killing. Again.

Black Lion sprang into the sky, and he settled in with the rear console, calling up orbital scans and every sensor feed he could get. Even in a different lion, the console was almost like an old friend... no, he couldn't afford to entertain _that_ thought. He was here to earn his release, to escape the hell this damnable machine had cast him into, and nothing more. _Let's get this over with_. "Give me a scouting pass over the site before you form up."

"Excuse me? You're not in charge here."

Sigh. _Probably deserved that, too._ " _Please_ give me a scouting pass? Assuming you'd like my input on how to stop this thing? If I'm just here to be a glorified battery, that's your choice, but I was under the impression you wanted to win this fight."

The cub took a moment to glare back at him. "Whatever. Just watch your damn manners." Black sped up, moving in on the mountains. "Stay under cover, guys, we're doing a scouting run."

 _Manners. Honestly._ Not that he'd been expecting to just fall into his old role here, but they had to realize he could offer them more help than his half of Voltron's power. Didn't they?

Coming over the mountains, he saw Kargil for the first time, and his eyes widened. _Well that's pleasant!_ The red cub had forgotten to mention the part about him being a mangled corpse... for an instant he flashed back to seeing another body, just as horribly damaged, then he hissed and shook it off. _Focus!_ This was kind of fitting for Kargil, actually, now the rest of his body matched his intellect and common sense. But stupid threats were still threats. "Get us as close as you can, and don't make me spell out 'without risking the lion,' you've made your point."

Snort. "Sure. Here we go."

Pidge nodded, bracing himself, and they charged.

* * *

At no point whatsoever had this seemed like a good idea. Maybe a necessary one, but not a good one. Now that he was actually launching into battle with this jerk at his back, Daniel was having more than a few second thoughts. No _time_ for those now, though. Now they had the only person on Arus crazier than Pidge in their sights, and it was time to do something about that.

"Back already?" Kargil mocked as Black Lion broke cover, lashing at them with all his tentacles. "You won't get so lucky again!"

"Dude, you mispronounced 'badass'." He snapped off a shot with his shock tail, jolting the closest tentacle. It twitched just enough to miss. "Probably ought to just not talk at all, your lips are falling apart." Two more tentacles crashed down; he sprang over one and ducked the other, getting closer to the half-exposed ribcage. "Think your reflexes might be rotting—"

"—Behind us!"

Too late. One of the tendrils he'd dodged slammed into Black's back legs, sending them tumbling wildly through the air until the lion crashed into Kargil's chest.

"Less taunting the chaos zombie," Pidge suggested through clenched teeth.

"Hey." Daniel dug Black's claws into the exposed muscle they'd struck, bracing. "Got you close to him, didn't I?"

"I see why Lance put you in charge."

He was pretty sure that wasn't a compliment, but didn't bother correcting it. They had incoming tentacles again. At the last possible second he kicked off the stringy surface, smirking as the tendril smacked into where they'd just been hanging on. Not that it seemed to hurt him much. It was the principle of the thing. "How about you focus on what _you're_ doing?"

A beep from the rear console answered him. "Got it. Get us out of here."

 _Like you have to tell me twice!_ Darting beneath one last tendril, he pushed Black to top speed and ran for it.

"Get ready, guys! We're coming in hot!" Even before they were around the side of the mountain, he was engaging the formation presets. As soon as the others were in sight, he grinned and pushed the lever. "Activate interlocks! Dynotherms connected! Infracells up! Megathrusters are go!"

"Let's go Voltron Force!"

He thought he might have heard those words echoed in a whisper behind him.

Lightning crackled through Black Lion's cockpit as the other lions attached. There was something different this time, something deeper and stronger than what he was used to. Was it because all of Voltron's power was gathered here? Or was Black trying to somehow offer encouragement about the mess they were in? He didn't know, and ultimately it probably didn't matter. Whatever it was, it seemed like a good sign, and that was good enough for him.

It didn't translate any further. As the formation faded, Daniel noticed Voltron's power levels were still at their accustomed halfway mark, and frowned. "So hey, you got your ride, you going to boost us or what?"

"No, not like this. It's inefficient. You'll need as much power as possible once you actually reach a weak point."

He cast a suspicious look over his shoulder. "Or you just want to see if you can get him to destroy us after all, right?"

"I made you a promise, black cub." Pidge's eyes narrowed in return. "Think whatever you want of that, but I intend to keep it. And the more time you waste arguing with me about it, the stronger the enemy gets."

Fair point. "Okay." He opened the internal comms so the others could hear. "What've you got for us, then?"

A brief pause. "...Well, this technically isn't Kargil we're fighting, for starters."

"Did he have an eviler twin?" Larmina snorted.

Pidge opted not to address that. "It's an incarnation of the haggarium; it's taking his form and his personality, probably because he was its last host. But there's nothing biological in there, alive or dead."

"You are saying it is an avatar of sorts?" Imam sounded thoughtful. "That will require a very different strategy."

"Yeah," Vince muttered. "Great. We're not fighting the insane vengeful emperor, we're fighting the pure essence of evil and chaos. Way better."

Daniel, for once, kind of agreed with his teammate's gloomy assessment. Kind of. "Bigger they are, harder they fall, and all that inspirational jazz. Let's go for the heart."

"No. That won't matter. The heart isn't keeping it alive; you might've noticed it isn't playing by any other biological rules?"

Scowl. Granted Pidge was their best source of information on haggarium, especially with Lance out of contact, but did he have to be so obnoxious about it? "You know, 'help' doesn't mean sitting back there and shooting all our ideas down. What do _you_ suggest then?"

He paused. "You're not completely off base. The heart is a central enough target once he's vulnerable, but we have to cut him off from his source first."

"The lake." He could practically _hear_ Larmina's predatory grin taking hold. "He didn't care much for Blue chilling things out down there on her own, bet he'll really love Voltron at full power, huh?" Then she paused. "...Uh, do better at watching for angry tentacles than we did last time, though."

Someone snickered; it might actually have been Imam.

"Okay." Daniel pushed Voltron forward, heading for the entrance to the tunnel. May as well use the existing infrastructure. And speaking of which, he shot a brief glance over his shoulder again. "Now would be a great time to kick us up to full, you know."

"Not yet."

"Dude, you could at least _pretend_ you're in this to—"

 _"—Daniel."_ His unwilling copilot actually using his name startled him into silence. "I've already had every opportunity to sabotage you if I were going to. You wanted my help, your team basically demanded it, now are you going to trust me or not?"

Something about those words...

 _Faith_.

Daniel hesitated. Of course he didn't trust. He wasn't that stupid; he'd been paying attention. But Pidge had a point about not turning on them yet. And he'd certainly never made any secret of his motives before. Maybe for this moment, he really was part of the Force again—and if he himself couldn't be trusted, maybe they could still put their faith in that part of Voltron's power inside of him. For now.

"...Ghostman, open this thing up. We're going!"

* * *

The second trip down the tunnel was a lot less nerve-wracking than the first. A golden aura surrounded Voltron as it moved, not so much digging as just seeming to command the earth out of their way. The whole elemental thing really was pretty cool at times.

Larmina kept her focus on her controls as they approached the all-too-familiar violet glow. The underground lake was pretty big. They were going to need all the power they could get to cut him off here, even with Voltron formed up. Even with their unpleasant secret weapon. She wasn't letting herself worry about him yet, though the thought had occurred to her that maybe they'd be able to salvage some haggarium once the zombie emperor squid was down.

Gods knew there was _enough_ of the stuff.

"That's disgusting," Vince declared as they broke into the cavern to see Kargil's exposed innards. He wasn't wrong.

"Ugh, no kidding," Daniel agreed. "Didn't realize when you said you threw ice at his guts you meant it literally. But hey, we've got a target-rich environment here!"

"No. Don't get distracted by his body, it's the source we're here to cut off."

"Right, right. You going to boost us yet?"

"Of course." Even before Pidge was finished speaking, Larmina watched as Blue Lion's power levels spiked.

 _Showtime_.

"Okay, Blue. Let's do this." Aiming for the water—not exactly a hard target—she triggered Blue's freeze breath. As part of Voltron, it made her lion's previous attacks look like a few wimpy flurries. "Oh, _cool."_ As ice consumed the closest part of the lake, she reconsidered those words. "Don't say it. None of you say it!"

"Wasn't going to say a word!"

"Of course not. We would never."

The ice was still spreading, but it was slowing now, and a roar from above told her Kargil had noticed. "Um, guys? This isn't going quite as well as planned."

"Noticing that." Suddenly they jerked to the side as a pair of tentacles came crashing in through the same holes they'd made last time. "You just keep doing your thing, we'll deal with the distractions!" Voltron reached out and sank Red Lion's fangs into one of the tendrils, engulfing it in fire.

It twitched. Slightly. "That doesn't look good."

"Brace yourselves!"

At least this time the tentacle didn't manage to grab them. Instead it swatted Voltron straight into the haggarium lake. Every alarm in Larmina's cockpit immediately started screaming for attention; she scowled and swatted at the override. "Trust me, I already know, we're in the haggarium and that's bad, got it!" Really bad. Power levels were plummeting, and the air in the cockpit was starting to get heavy, loaded down with dark energy. In a minute it was about to really hurt, if they didn't do something fast.

 _Like what? ...Ice._

Larmina was no engineering expert, but she knew a few things. Things like metal being a wonderful conductor of _cold_. Voltron's armor was anything but typical metal, of course. But maybe she could use that. Maybe she could get lucky. Maybe... _what can it hurt to try? Can't get a whole lot worse than this_. Clamping Blue's jaws shut, she triggered another full power ice blast.

Exactly what happened after that, she wasn't sure. She felt Blue Lion's presence seize hold in her mind, and on some instinct reached out to the others. Nobody else was in a whole lot of shape to respond, but it wasn't a response she was after. Not really. Just that momentary connection. The next moment, she was slugged with what could only be described as a spectacular case of brain freeze.

All the water around Voltron froze solid, and her flashing alarms went dim.

"...Dude."

"That's _awesome_."

"Larmina? What did you do?"

She blinked. "Uh... not quite sure, honestly." She wondered if this was how Vince felt all the time.

"You channeled Blue Lion's elemental energy into the Nexus, I'd imagine," Pidge offered. "And you all might still want to get _out_ of here before Kargil comes in after us. Just saying."

He was annoying, but he was also probably right. That actually made him more annoying. Voltron punched through the ice, flying back out into the cavern just as a third tentacle pierced the earth and the lake where they'd just been. _Whew_.

"So Larmina..." Vince sounded oddly smug. "Despite the fact that you don't know what you just did, think you can do it again?"

Oh, that was why. "You're entirely too excited to be the one getting to _ask_ that question."

"I really am. Gonna answer it?"

She considered that for a moment, then felt Blue's reassuring presence in her mind. "I think so."

"Then do it. I've got an idea..."

Nodding mostly for her own benefit, Larmina tried to focus on what she'd felt before. Blue Lion with her, the others on the fringes. And this time she felt something else grab her mind. _Whoa!_ The world shimmered and shifted, an etched crystal star dominating her vision. _The Nexus?_ Blue's piece of it was glowing brilliantly, and in fact, the circuits on all the pieces were glowing blue... she had a moment to realize Vince's techno-magic whips were wrapped around the Nexus too, sapphire energy surging through them, then the vision was gone and his voice rang out over the comms.

"Everyone fire!"

Well, okay then. This was weird, but okay. Blue spat a new wave of cold at the lake, and next to her Yellow Lion shot a barrage of... ice shards? _Oh!_ Green and even Red were in on it too, Green firing a frigid whirlwind, Red a thick icy fog. Black didn't seem to have joined in, but as Kargil's tentacles came at them, a burst of pale blue lightning shot out and froze them together.

 _"Sweet."_

The ice was spreading incredibly quickly now, filling the lake, the vivid purple glow becoming muted as it froze. Not fully nullifying it, but at least rendering it inert. Definitely better than letting it stay free, right? Right!

"You've almost got it." Pidge sounded a bit shaky. Probably reasonable; they were drawing nearly every bit of power Voltron had, his included. "Almost..." The ice was actually starting to creep up Kargil's torso, which was much nicer to look at than his entrails. Haggarium had a really lousy sense of aesthetics. "Got it!" Another furious roar echoed beneath that last yell, which would've told them anyway.

Larmina liked when the bad guys were mad.

* * *

 _One step at a time..._

Freezing the lake was a victory, no doubt. But even without its source of power, the vile avatar was terribly strong. If it came down to a battle of Voltron's energy versus Kargil's, they had no chance. They had to fight smarter.

Bruno felt that fighting smarter shouldn't be too difficult. This creature was built of raw chaos and rage. Things diametrically opposed to the patience and calculation they would require. They did have some time to be patient. Not a great deal, but enough to pick their battles.

Or not...

Shaking free of the ice that had encased them, the tentacles retreated. There was a time he would've considered that a good sign, but he knew better than that anymore. _What's next?_ He got his answer almost as soon as he formed the question. The earth around them started shaking, not a single quake or even a series of them so much as a constant, violent rumble.

"What the hell is going on now?"

Pidge hissed what Bruno assumed was some form of profanity. "We've cut off his power source, so he has no reason to stay buried. He's trying to uproot himself."

"Yes," Imam agreed. "The monstrosity is attempting to free himself from the grasp of the earth. If he succeeds..."

"We're screwed?" Daniel guessed.

"Essentially yes, sir."

"Yeah. Our only real tactical advantage is that he can't move while we're chipping at him. If that changes, we might not be _immediately_ screwed, but everything else in his path sure will be." Even as Vince spoke, the ice that had crept up Kargil's abdomen was starting to shatter as he started to pull free of the lake. "We've got to do something _now_."

"Then let's do it." Voltron sprang up, blasting its way through the earth. "Get ready, we're going for the heart!" Punching their way up out of the ground, they found themselves right in front of Kargil. "Form—"

"—You're beginning to irritate me, gnats!" A blinding flare of power from his eyes engulfed them, and Bruno roared in pain as haggarium burned through his cockpit.

He was starting to get angry.

 _No. The enemy wants you angry. Keep your wits_. Voltron crashed to the ground, the energy fading. But something wasn't quite right. Purple sparks were still arcing through his consoles. _That can't be good_. A second wave hit almost immediately, before they'd even gotten back on their feet. This one seemed even stronger.

"He thinks _he's_ irritated?" Daniel snarled as the second burst faded.

"Let's teach him a little something about irritation," Larmina agreed. Her usual enthusiasm for combat was cloaked in something else, something colder and darker.

Realization hit right around the same time as the third haggarium blast. Exposure to the wicked substance was starting to have an effect on _them_. Gritting his teeth as the pain tore through him, he steeled himself against the true threat: the blind rage threatening to take hold in his heart. _Green Lion! Help me!_ He felt her presence immediately, but it was faint. Wavering. Definitely not good.

"Pull back!" Pidge gasped as the third blast faded. Clearly he'd picked up on it too; his power must be protecting him. "We need to get out of exposure range and regroup!"

"Oh, shut up," Daniel snapped as Voltron lunged for the avatar again. "We don't need to regroup, we just need to rip this thing apart."

"Seriously," Vince agreed. Even he sounded colder. "Hell with regrouping. Let's do some damage." The attack they were launching was nothing but a direct, brutal strike. It couldn't possibly succeed.

Bruno growled low, hunching over his consoles. He could see what was happening, but how was he supposed to make the more volatile members of the team realize? How long could he fight it himself? _There must be something_. For a moment, an odd thought occurred to him—a memory of a spiritual power surging through Voltron, freezing the soldiers they'd faced in their tracks. _I wonder..._

Two of Kargil's tendrils caught Voltron in midair, wrapping around them and squeezing. Hard. Not hard enough to crush armor, but more than hard enough to halt all movement, and then haggarium started to flood into them again.

This time it wasn't stopping.

* * *

 _Sankora deliver us!_

Screaming a prayer in his mind to the goddess of courage, Imam braced himself as the pain intensified. At this rate the mad avatar might well kill them after all, or worse. The others were all too clearly being influenced by the foul power. Truth be told, he couldn't be sure he wasn't. Ghostwalkers, ideally, did not know anger; knowledge of the interplay between life and death was a comfort against even the darkest crimes. But he was, after all, not such a skilled Ghostwalker, and the smoldering in his chest could be nothing else.

They could not succumb to this. The reign of haggarium over the galaxy would warp that comforting order itself into a nightmare.

Something was trying to tug at the edges of his thoughts. At first he resisted, certain it was the haggarium's dark call. But the resistance ended as Yellow Lion's presence asserted itself. His lion had been trying to shield him from the worst of the pain, but this was something more. Telling him to listen. The other presence was growing in strength, resonating, far more familiar than the wickedness seeping into his soul...

One of the others? It had to be. And something touching far deeper inside of him, as if the Essence were blossoming there, trying to pull him back into life when chaos was seeking to crush him.

 _Oh...!_

It all fell into place at once. Life _was_ calling. This monstrosity was more than chaos; it was hatred and malice and murderous rage. Raw power alone could not conquer that sort of madness. What could conquer such an unnatural power was the natural order, the cycle which bound all things living and dead. The cycle this beast stood outside of.

 _Once more, my friends_. As the whispers of life bolstered him, as pain burned through his bones, Imam closed his eyes and called out to the dead. Not the fearful ghosts he had once summoned before, but the other side of that equation. The spirits of those who had died at peace, who rested in the arms of the earth with calm and joy. Those gentle deaths that the Force, in a way, was fighting to win for their people. That eternal peace was one of the most powerful forces in existence.

Could even this abomination truly stand against such power?

Again he wasn't sure how to utilize what was gathering inside of him, the will of the spirits flocking to him through the Essence. So once again he trusted in Voltron. There was no sword to channel through, but was Voltron itself not the true weapon? The lions, the pilots, and their bonds when united as one... _there!_ Reaching out despite the spasms of agony, he managed to rest his hand on Yellow Lion's key.

The first thing he felt was Bruno's presence, suddenly sharp and clear. It was Bruno who'd been calling to him, and now the life energy Green Lion wielded was flowing through him as well. Not just him. The energy they'd gathered together was flooding into Voltron, crashing down over the haggarium like a spiritual tsunami.

The pain stopped.

"You guys..."

"Whoa. What just happened?"

"Did things just get really zen all of a sudden or is it just me?"

"Honestly. It's like none of you were ever taught what haggarium _does_. Or were you just not paying attention?"

"You know, you could still shut up."

Despite the voices, Imam kept his focus, largely because Voltron was demanding it. Bruno was still there with him, their combined efforts purging the great machine itself as surely as they seemed to have cleansed the pilots. His own anger was gone too, lost in the tranquility of the moment.

What he didn't expect to have break that tranquility was _Kargil_ screaming.

"INFIDELS! Your world of vermin will suffer for that!"

Finally his concentration snapped, just in time to realize Voltron was plummeting. The beast had released them. And as he fought to help regain control, Imam looked up to see the ends of the two tentacles that had held them reduced to blackened stumps.

 _By all the ancestors..._

They managed to land on their feet, but the earth was trembling too violently to stand on. Even Yellow Lion couldn't ensure Voltron's balance. "Holy crap," Daniel yelped as they stumbled, then he pulled them up to hover just above the ground. "I don't know what you guys did, but nice job!"

"Might be a bit early for congratulations," Pidge muttered.

"What do you... oh. Oh _damn."_ Vince swallowed audibly. "So yeah, about that, we've got good news and bad news..."

Imam checked his own sensors, trying to see what they were referring to. It took a minute. Then his eyes flashed with alarm, realizing the issue wasn't quite Kargil himself. It was the effect his thrashing in pain was having on his surroundings: not only was he shaking the earth, he'd loosened it up quite a bit. Which meant...

"Give it to us, Magic Man."

"Good news is we definitely managed to hurt him..."

Even as he spoke, the horrible creature was moving. The tentacles he'd had buried in the earth now tore free, ripping up huge swaths of the very bedrock and sending it flying. They had to dart between several boulders, but it didn't require enough focus for them to miss what else was happening. He was pulling himself free of the ground, his abdomen rising up with a great deal of ice still clinging to it, followed by massive legs that were every bit as foul and rotted as the rest of him.

"...And there's the bad news."

"Holy _shit."_

Kargil leered down at them, baring fangs that dripped with haggarium. "Silly little children with a silly little toy. Get out of my _sight_."

Daniel tried to dodge, but the avatar moved far more quickly than he had any right to. With a mocking laugh he kicked Voltron in the chest, and Imam cried out from the feedback as Yellow Lion's interlocks gave out. Then they were flying.

* * *

Lance had never felt so helpless in his life.

He'd sent the team out to die. He knew that. They'd clearly known it themselves, from the look in their eyes as they'd gone to their lions. What choice had there been? Asking himself that wasn't helping anything. Remembering how many times his own team had accepted certain death, only to pull off a miracle, wasn't helping. Telling himself they had made their decision, and it was insulting not to respect their bravery, definitely wasn't helping.

 _They're still just kids_... and another thought, more selfish but nonetheless painful. Even if they stopped Kargil, even if Pidge really did spare the pilots as he'd claimed he wanted to... _I was supposed to reawaken Voltron, not oversee its destruction!_

The worst part was that he couldn't even _watch_. Even after ordering an observation satellite into place, all he could see was a big purple blur. Though somewhere along the line seismic sensors in the area had also started going off. That wasn't making him feel a damn bit better.

 _They'll do this. They'll find a way. They always find a way._ We _always found a way!_

Suddenly the big purple blur exploded into... well, a moving big purple blur. Moving _fast_. At the same time the lions' energy signatures appeared, moving even faster in the opposite direction. _Wait,the lions?_ Zooming in he saw that yes, Voltron was out of formation—and judging by the way they were all sailing through the air in a tangled mess, he assumed it wasn't intentional. Also they were _really_ flying. _What the hell?_

They crashed down on the other side of the mountain range. Whatever had hit them had clearly been impressive. "So, team? What's going on out there, exactly?"

"Ngggghhh... dude, good to see you too," Daniel groaned as Black Lion struggled to get off its back. "I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet."

"Large metal cats take a little more effort on that count. What the hell happened? All I can see from here is a big blob of haggarium. Which is moving now."

"Yeah, about that," Vince grimaced. "We've got good news and bad news..."

"You already used that line."

"Still accurate!"

"We were able to sever Kargil from his energy source," Pidge interrupted impatiently, "so he's not getting any stronger. But he's up and walking around now."

 _Oh_. "Is that all?"

"No, commander. He is moving towards the capital, and the castle." And there was Imam being Imam. "...Also, I cannot speak for anyone else, but my elemental resonance battery appears to have malfunctioned from having our formation broken."

"Mine too," Larmina agreed, tossing in a few Arusian curses for good measure. "Five minutes to reboot."

Great. "Would anyone else like to pitch in with some more bad news while we're at it? Vince?"

A brief pause. "I'm hungry?"

It wasn't actually all that funny, but under the circumstances he could hardly blame them when several of the kids burst out laughing anyway. "That's what you get for skipping breakfast to save the universe. I'm gonna activate what's left of the remote defenses and see if I can slow this thing down until you get back in the air."

"Uhh..."

He was pretty sure Vince wanted to tell him that wasn't going to work. Which he'd already suspected; big blob of haggarium that had knocked Voltron out of formation and all. But he had to do _something_ , on principle if nothing else. "Stow it. That's what's happening."

"Okay. We'll be there as soon as we can." Daniel was clearly trying very hard to stay confident. "Be careful, Lance."

 _Careful. Heh._ Not a lot of 'careful' to be under these conditions, but hey. Sometimes it really had to be the thought that counted. "You too," he said quietly, then recentered the monitor.

 _Oh, great!_

Big blob of haggarium had already made it to Altairus City. _Goddammit_. Like they hadn't had enough trouble there this war. He called up the automated defenses, picking a few drones to put under manual control as they swooped in on the city. Maybe their cameras would be able to show him something more than a big purple blur.

 _Be careful what you wish for, dumbass._

Kargil was all too visible from well beyond the outskirts of the city. The cadets had been right: really big freaky squid monster. He was making his way through the city, obviously going out of his way to crush the fleeing crowds as his tentacles ripped buildings out of the ground and threw them around. And to top it all off he was laughing maniacally. Because of course he was.

"I am getting really sick of this sadistic bastard," Lance growled, trying to push the drones to go faster somehow. They didn't obey, of course. So much for future technology. "And what am I supposed to shoot at, anyway? He's already a nasty undead mess." The monitors didn't answer him, either. But he did have a pretty good idea of what he had to do.

 _Go for the eyes, it's the best distraction you can get_.

The little defensive craft weren't that bad, to be honest. A bunch of high-powered lasers strapped to an engine, how could you go wrong with that? Getting up in Kargil's face had the added benefit of not letting him see the carnage on the ground, and he opened up with everything the drones had. To his surprise, he even had an effect. Sort of.

"Ha! Made you blink."

A second later the zombie emperor shot a violet pulse out of his eyes, vaporizing most of the drones in one blow. Awesome. But he did have a couple left. Enough to pick up the mocking laughter as he turned a bit, seeming to forget the city around him. "You want to interfere, wretch? Very well! I'll come rip your castle from the ground, and tear it to shreds in front of these insects you won't be able to save!"

...Okay, so he'd never been all that great at being careful.

* * *

Daniel was already checking his sensors as Voltron formed up again, functioning ERB units and all. "What've we got?"

"Kargil's in the middle of Altairus City," Vince reported. "Moving in on the castle."

"...Didn't I tell him to be careful?" Not like he was the boss of Lance, but still.

A soft laugh came from behind him, almost affectionate. "Not one of his talents." Then Pidge sobered. "You have to end this fast. That lake won't stay frozen forever."

"Can we neutralize the source?" Bruno suggested. "Now that Kargil's out of it?"

"...Possibly." Several beeps and clicks came from the rear console. "The water is infected but it's still water, and having the elements surrounding it favors Voltron. It may work. And it will definitely get his attention faster than we can reach him."

"Then let's do it." Daniel pushed them forward, his thoughts racing. "And once we've done that I have an idea."

He'd been thinking while they were waiting for the others to reboot. Tactics weren't his strong point, he had no problem admitting that. But a bit of inspiration had struck as he thought about Bruno and Imam's injuring the monster, Vince and Larmina teaming up to freeze the lake. If hitting one weak spot wasn't enough to bring this thing down, maybe hitting several at once could... and it just so happened they had a way to accomplish that.

Returning to the mountains, they found the hole where Kargil had been planted emitting a muted purple glow. "Okay, what do we do?"

"Let's throw some fire at it," Vince suggested.

"...Uh, after all we went through to freeze it?" Larmina demanded. "Are you kidding me?"

"The ice left it inert. If we melt it now, all that water might help amplify Voltron's energy instead of the haggarium."

"Worth a try."

"Yes. The elements are strong here. And they protest their own subjugation. They'll aid us."

"Okay, sure." Daniel nodded. He had to listen to the team, even when they sounded crazy. They'd certainly done the same for him a few times. "Have at it!"

Red Lion stretched out and let loose a stream of silver fire. It poured into the cavern below, washing over the lake, creating a blinding white light as it meet the water. Was it working? He was pretty sure this crazy plan was actually working.

"...No, wrong. Doesn't have to be fire. I need some backup here, guys, give it everything you've got!"

Nobody hesitated. Wind, water, sand, and lightning blazed down into the cavern alongside the fire. Voltron's power jumped up to full again, Pidge pitching in too as the elemental onslaught continued. The light beneath them was somehow getting even brighter...

A massive explosion erupted from the cavern. Massive, but strange somehow. There hadn't been any sound with it, and despite standing so close Voltron hadn't even stumbled a little. Daniel had never even heard of... wait, yes he had. Not so long ago, even.

 _Voltron's power unleashed in its purest form..._

"I don't know what you kids just did," Lance's voice crackled over the comms, "but your buddy the crazy squid monster just decided the castle isn't near as interesting as it was a few seconds ago. He's heading for you, screaming about insolence and heresy and stuff. He's kind of full of himself, huh?"

Oh, good. "Totally."

"Daniel. You said you had an idea?"

"Hell yeah I did." They jumped back into the air, bringing Voltron up over the mountains and turning in the direction of the distant haggarium signature. "Get ready, you guys..." His eyes narrowed as he pushed the throttles to max, and pushed a little harder for good measure. "We're gonna go fast!" As they shot forward he focused himself, sinking into Black Lion's presence and reaching out to the others. He could feel them answering, recognizing the plan. Falling into perfect sync. And the world around them seemed to slow to a crawl.

 _Got it!_

A slight jolt, and a muffled silence replacing the hum of their propulsion, heralded the breaking of the sound barrier. At these speeds no human could even hope to perform the kind of precision they would need. But in this moment, they weren't human. They were Voltron.

"Now, Pidge!"

At the last possible second, a new energy flared. The Blazing Sword formed and began to emit a brilliant white light, tendrils of color wrapping around it, a web of wild energy encircling the blade as they lunged. Channeling the energy into Voltron itself would distribute the power throughout its systems. No need for that. Every bit of Pidge's power was pouring into the weapon alone.

Kargil saw them, of course. A distant star on the horizon bearing down on him at full speed. He brought his tentacles up to intercept, but he was so _slow_. Too slow. Daniel let a triumphant grin cross his face, and he could feel the others sharing the sentiment.

 _This. Ends. Now_.

Ducking beneath one tentacle, looping around another, Voltron shot straight into the open ribcage and pitched up. There was a moment of resistance as the Blazing Sword stabbed into the mass of the heart above them. Just a moment. Then that web of elemental energy reached out, spreading through the heart. In that same fraction of a second, they pierced completely. It wasn't just the sword. Voltron itself shot through like a bullet and kept moving.

There wasn't any blood. Just thick violet goo spraying everywhere as they shredded through the avatar's chest and exploded out its back. Even Kargil lurching and screaming seemed to happen in slow motion as they turned and punched through again, this time through the neck. "Don't let up!" He might be strong, but they were fast. Fast enough to hit everything at once. Fast enough to overwhelm even _this_ disgusting thing, and to hell with whatever dark energy was powering it.

 _Third time's the charm!_

In the space of one last second, Voltron spun around again and stabbed in straight between Kargil's eyes.

"Dude!"

The connection finally broke as they pierced through the monster's skull, and they turned to observe their handiwork. That colored elemental web was still spreading out over Kargil's body. His bones were catching fire, smoking and sizzling, clear water pouring off him like blood.

"By the ancestors... what is happening?"

"Life is happening. The elements can't abide this abomination. We've infected it. Just as surely as haggarium ever infected anyone."

Wind was gathering around Kargil now too, tearing away the rotted flesh; stone was creeping over his exposed organs. And beneath it all Daniel could feel a charge building. Sparks were dancing. Lightning was starting to arc all around the monstrosity, sinking into it like a lion's claws.

In a single enormous thunderclap, the haggarium avatar disintegrated completely.

... _Holy crap_.

"...Did we do it?" Larmina whispered, the first to find her voice. "Or are we going to have to go searching every bit of groundwater on Arus?"

Good question. "Magic Man? What've you got? Tell us he's gone for good this time."

There was a very long pause before Vince answered. "...My scans are totally clear. No remains, no residual haggarium. It's over, you guys. It's over for real."


	19. Sacrifice (1)

Reawakening  
Chapter 16: Sacrifice (1)

* * *

Daniel took a second to revel in the victory. Only a second, of course. He _did_ have another homicidal maniac backseating him.

A second was too long.

Pidge circled around the front seat too quickly for even Daniel to react, flinging him to the back of the cockpit. "Run now, black cub." His fingers were darting over the consoles as he spoke. "Run and take the others with you. You've done very well, you don't need to die here."

"Yeah, right." In a shower of sparks his claws were out, which was interesting—he didn't actually recall summoning them, yet there they were. "Don't think we're gonna make this easy for you, coward."

That actually wrenched Pidge's gaze away from the screens. "...You have me curious." He straightened. "What is it you think you can do, exactly? What do you think is _possibly_ within your power that I'm even going to consider a mild inconvenience?"

It wasn't a half bad question. They'd seen everything, up to and including Voltron's own firepower, bounce right off this guy. But what was the alternative, just giving up? No. Whatever else Daniel was, he wasn't a quitter.

And he realized, suddenly, there was something.

"This." With a surge of adrenaline, he lunged not at Pidge but past him, and slammed on the eject.

Voltron landed and dropped to its knees, Black Lion's jaw swinging up to seal the face away. It didn't close completely, of course. Because a second later Black spat the two occupants of its cockpit to the grass.

Daniel came down hard, wincing as his knees took the shock. His backstabbing passenger sailed a bit further. He could feel energy swelling as he looked up; the storm was surging. It was the same electric aura that flowed through Black Lion when it unleashed its power, but this time he wasn't the one summoning it. The sky was crackling, every blade of grass standing on end... and Pidge was glowing with lightning.

With hatred.

"Clever," he hissed, slowly rising to his feet. "Congratulations. I'm inconvenienced."

Daniel met his rage with a savage grin. "Oh, you didn't like that?" He jumped up and broke into a sprint, blurring through the storm, landing a flurry of blows with his claws before darting away. Damage? No. Annoyance? Oh yes. He could be one hell of a distraction when called upon. Whatever it took to keep Voltron safe, and there was ultimately only one way to do that...

"Guys, _split_. Get the lions back to their dens!"

"Got it!" But despite the acknowledgment, the robot only shuddered a bit. Nothing else was happening... and then something did happen, but it wasn't at all what Daniel was hoping for.

Voltron fell flat on its face.

 _Uh... that's not good._

"They can't do that." Pidge's voice was suddenly mocking, almost singsong—which was quite a bit more disconcerting than the anger it replaced. "You think you've won something because you got one lucky break... the first thing I did was fuse the interlocks, just in case they tried to get away. Or weren't you paying attention?" His eyes sparked, filled with something that had never been there before. Light. _Joy_. The eyes of someone who finally saw victory.

For the first time, Daniel found himself terrified.

"Run, black cub." The lightning was dancing. "This is your last chance."

He wanted to run. He wanted to run more than he'd ever wanted to do anything in his life. He could run for it, disappear, escape to somewhere far away where nobody had to know he was a coward and a failure... it would be so simple. And he would spend the rest of his life with that haunting him, until maybe he went just as crazy as Pidge was now.

"No." He raised his head, meeting the madness of those eyes with defiance. "You keep telling us to run. You want _so_ badly not to kill us." He clenched his fists. "You want to do this on your terms. You want us to just play along with the noble little fantasy you've built in your head. But you'll get no such pleasure from me!"

"...Fair enough. I gave you every chance." A cold smile twisted Pidge's face. "But don't think too highly of yourself, brat. I think I'll manage to enjoy this."

For a second, Daniel saw the lightning leap forth.

It was only a second.

* * *

 _If that's how it has to be..._

Pidge watched the body fall, still smoking a little from the lightning's strike. He really hadn't expected any different. Being trained by Lance had surely done away with any sense they may have once had. The other cubs were leaping out of their lions, rushing to their fallen leader. It was probably too much to hope they'd be demoralized by his death... he would know, wouldn't he?

The red cub was the first to reach the body, dropping to check his pulse and getting a bit of a shock to his own hand. "Daniel? Daniel, c'mon man..." He shook him a little. "Dude, this isn't funny!"

 _Come on, big guy! I know this'll hurt like hell but you know I can't carry you out of here, you've got to wake up!_

Pidge nearly choked on the memory, fighting down a scream suddenly trying to take hold. He wasn't even sure if it was fury or regret. _No. I gave them every chance, I didn't want this, I didn't want any of this!_ And yet history was repeating itself in front of him, the death this time coming at his own hands...

The blue cub sprang to her feet with a howl of rage, having apparently accepted what her red companion had not. "That's it! That's _it!"_ Her armor flared to life, the glowing staff she wielded appearing in her hands. "You're going to pay for that, you backstabbing bastard!"

He caught the weapon, meeting her burning blue eyes and letting that hatred harden his resolve. "He asked for it. _Demanded_ it. I told him to run." A new flare of power gathered in his hands, ice creeping over the staff. "No sense offering you the same opportunity, I suppose?"

"Fuck you." Using the staff for leverage, she pulled up and kicked him hard in the chest with both feet.

Pidge staggered back from the force of the blow—it didn't actually hurt, but physics were physics. By all rights the kick should've crushed his ribs. _Such a waste._ "Didn't think so." Regaining his balance he redoubled his call to the ice, casting a flurry of frozen shards at her like a barrage of knives. They caught her in the middle of another lunge, shattering her helmet and tearing into her skull, and without so much as a cry of pain she dropped motionless to the ground.

That got the other ones up. The red cub drew his mace, the energy tendrils extending from its spikes, and whipped it at him with a molten glare. Pidge glared right back, catching the blow; the tendrils wrapped around his wrist, sinking into the long-drained voltcom. "You were one of _us!"_ the cub yelled, power pulsing through the whips. The voltcom's dimmed energy channels lit with white light.

 _He's trying to detonate it._

For three and a half centuries, Pidge had worn that voltcom, despite all the anger and bitterness. One last reminder of better times... it was more habit than anything by now. But the threat to it sent a wave of rage through him anyway. Wordlessly he returned the attack with a pulse of his own, fiery energy racing back down the whips until striking the red cub in a massive explosion. He didn't get his armor up in time, not that it would've helped... with a scream his body vanished into a wall of flame and smoke.

A golden arc erupted from the smoke almost immediately, the yellow cub's scythe. Pidge ducked out of reflex. He knew Ghostwalkers well; he'd spent quite a bit of time in the Drule Protectorate, researching their roots in the Empire. So he knew there was even less point in trying to convince this one to run. Not for his own sake, at least. "You've already _lost!_ Aren't you supposed to accept death when it comes to you rather than going out looking for it?"

"Do not speak to me of my traditions, fiend. You seek to destroy all I am sworn to. Should you not be the one reconsidering? Do you not see the cycle you perpetuate here?"

Of course he saw it. "This cycle ends with Voltron. All the pain will be over!"

The Ghostwalker's eyes glowed as he dropped back, flinging the scythe again. "You are wrong. Our deaths will not be the end of Voltron, and you will know only regret in yours."

Pidge snorted, not even deigning to address that. As if he knew anything but regret _now_. This time he caught the scythe as it spun towards him, throwing it back at its master. The cub was perceptive; he sidestepped just enough for the weapon to circle around his skeletal form. But he failed to anticipate the wind burst that changed its trajectory and drove it deep into his spine.

 _Never with the earth_...

And now the Ailurian who'd succeeded him was the only one left, but he hadn't called his weapons or armor. He simply stood in a guard stance, watching. All too obviously positioned to try to block him from Voltron, but not making any moves of his own.

"Well? Are _you_ going to see sense?" Pidge asked icily, stepping forward. "Get out of my way or you die like the rest of them."

He shook his head. "Fighting you cannot stop this madness. But I will not stand aside. You are bound to the winds. Green Lion's ward. Will you destroy _her_ , Pidge Stoker? She who lays claim to your soul?"

 _Green Lion..._

Yes, that was right... he'd said something like that before. That Green Lion would still welcome him—did the green cub really think that old bond, of all of them, could change his mind? Was he that arrogant? Or was _she_?

"For three hundred and fifty years... I have been _alone_." His voice broke, but he spat the words anyway, dripping with pain and venom. "Where was Green Lion then? Where was her voice when I woke up buried in ash on Galra? Where the hell was her claim on my soul when I was tearing myself apart from the inside? She wants that bond to matter now? She's too _late!"_

"...I see." The other lowered his head. "Then I must stand in your way. Kill me if you will."

Seething more than ever, Pidge reached out to the winds to do precisely that—but the energy he'd been summoning to rip the breath from the cat creature's lungs abruptly dissipated as he tried to cast it forth. He couldn't say why. Just the briefest moment of... what? Was it some memory of compassion, of what he had once been, struggling against executing an enemy who'd surrendered? Was it the vestiges of that forgotten bond, refusing to defile the winds in such a way? Or was it just one last cry of defiance against his fate, all their fates...

He saw a glimmer of hope in the cat man's eyes, and that hope ripped into him more savagely than any weapon could've.

"DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!" he screamed, drawing his knife as he lunged, tearing his successor's throat open in a spray of hot blood that seemed to burn where it splattered over his skin. For a moment he was frozen by that, a pain he knew wasn't truly physical but might as well have been. Then he swallowed hard, steeling himself again. No. All he'd done was what the cub had forced him to do, what _all_ of them had forced him to do... and it was more merciful this way, anyway. They wouldn't have to live with their failure, as he had.

 _Nothing left to do but end this. It doesn't matter anymore. None of it matters!_

It was coming back to him now. His own hope. His joy at finally seeing the exit from this nightmare. No, none of his desperate crimes mattered anymore. They couldn't! Escape was in front of him... he broke into a run, to cover the distance between himself and the fallen robot, to finally finish this once and for all.

And yet he was slowed by a whisper of power washing over him. A faint spark in the air, an icy shimmer starting to coalesce. Pale blue and intensifying swiftly, taking on a form—no, two forms. Pidge drew up short, staring. The power was familiar; he could feel it resonating. Voltron's power? Blue Lion's power. He reached out to the waters, trying to push the manifestation aside, but instead it pushed back against his commands. Swelling into a great, spectral lioness whose form rippled slightly in the breeze.

 _What the...?_

He was so focused on the first figure he nearly missed the second. A slim, female form, a soft whisper in the shadow of the lion's power. But then she stepped forward. "So young, yet so brave," she murmured. "They laid down their lives in hopeless battle. You know so much of the lions, Pidge... didn't you know such a sacrifice in their name would be honored?"

Pidge recoiled. Knowing that voice all too well even after all this time. Knowing that face, one he'd fought beside as a sister, one he'd watched grow old and die at a distance. "Allura...!"

She nodded, approaching him. "You really didn't expect that Voltron itself would have its say?"

"I..." What was he supposed to say to that? He took another step back and felt his legs give out on him, falling to his knees. "I wasn't..."

Lightning was crackling in the last vestiges of smoke, the cloud becoming thicker and darker. Not smoke anymore but a stormcloud, a second lion forming from it. Not alone. "You weren't thinking?" Keith stepped up next to Allura, studying him with stern eyes. "You were a warrior, Pidge. You were ready to sacrifice yourself for those under your protection. How did you end up here? How has it come to you sacrificing those same people for your own sake?"

"I didn't want to," he hissed, letting his determination take hold again. Why was this happening, why were they here? Would even the ghosts he'd been clinging to deny him his escape in the end? "I didn't want any of this! I lost everything, even the ability to _give_ my own life! Who are you to judge me for that?"

"We aren't here to judge you, Pidge." Allura knelt beside him, brushing her spectral fingertips against his cheek."You've lost so much. But loss is part of living... and one of us was always going to be the last." She lowered her eyes—the eyes that had seen the funerals of each of her brothers in arms, even if two of them hadn't really been dead. "You've let it blind you. You're still breathing, but you haven't been alive... you've lost what was most important of all. Yourself."

There was no argument he could possibly offer for that.

* * *

He'd thought he was helpless before. Oh, like hell he'd known anything about it.

Lance couldn't hear what was going on. Really he hadn't been able to see it too well either, but he didn't need to. The monitoring icons for the voltcoms, winking out one by one as their wearers lost vital signs, had told him all he'd truly needed to know. He'd been ready to charge out there himself the second it became clear Pidge was making his move, but something had stopped him. Not common sense, or any thoughts of self-preservation—when had _those_ ever played into it? It was something more, something deeper than that. Something inside of him that wasn't quite his own thoughts.

Red Lion hadn't reacted to Vince's death the way he would've expected. No flare of rage, no wave of sorrow. He'd felt it, alright... but it had been a quiet spark of pain, consumed in an almost peaceful warmth. He wondered about that. If Red claimed his pilot's spirits, were life and death all the same to him? Didn't he know Pidge would be coming for him next?

 _Or does he just know something I don't..._

Nearly on the heels of that thought, he saw the shimmer of blue that halted Pidge's advance. He saw the stormcloud gathering. And he saw the lions, appearing with those ghostly forms at their sides.

And then he knew.

Suddenly Lance was running. Faster than he'd dreamed he ever could run anymore, but maybe that was because he wasn't alone. A red blur was moving at his side, coalescing into a great crimson lion, embers streaking from its fiery mane as it paced him. It all made sense now—this had started in the past, it could only end with the past. But that meant he didn't know what he was running into. Would he die today after all? Maybe he didn't belong here either, maybe to exorcise the memories that haunted Voltron he would have to go too...

 _Peace, my wayfaring kitten._ He gasped as Red's warm voice echoed in his mind, achingly familiar, even though he'd only ever heard it so clearly once before. _Death isn't the cure for death._

He looked over at the lion as they burst out of the castle doors. Realizing. That reassuring warmth that had kept him from racing to his own death before... "You knew. You knew this was going to happen!"

 _No. Not until the very end. Not until the moment the cubs chose to give their lives in our name. We could suspect, but nothing more... we know the souls of our bonded, but even we can't see the future._

Lance hesitated. "Then I probably shouldn't bother asking what comes next, but I'm gonna do it anyway."

 _Of course you are_. Red chuckled. _What comes next is up to you and the others. All I know is that one way or another, the battle begun on Galra will finally end today._

The Academy complex was blurring past, as if they were in their own little mystical tunnel rather than the real world. Probably not actually that unlikely. "You don't sound worried, for not knowing how this ends."

 _Do you believe in the Defender, kitten?_

"Of course I do, but—"

 _Then what's so surprising about the fact that we believe in you?_

...Well he certainly hadn't ever thought of it like _that_.

They were coming into view of Voltron now, the fallen robot facing the site of that brief... slaughter. Lance stopped short at the sight—his gaze drawn first to the bodies scattered over the ground. He had to look. He'd sent these kids out to their deaths, even if he hadn't had any real choice in the matter. But even as he looked over the fallen Force, his eyes were trying to go elsewhere. To take in the sight of the two pale specters, and one last body slumped in the grass.

Pidge looked up, catching sight of Red Lion as it joined the ghostly forms of its brother and sister, then turning to see Lance. "...Come to tell me again how this is my fault?" he asked quietly, raggedly. "How I deserved it all?"

Lance was quiet for a moment. He had a lot of things he wanted to say in response to that, most of which involved a lot of profanity. But the spell of the moment somehow dampened his own rage. He looked from Allura to Keith, his own heart aching. It had been like yesterday that he'd last seen them. It had been like an eternity ago. And as Allura offered him a gentle smile and Keith gave that old familiar nod, he understood.

"...No." He shook his head. "I'm here to remind you that you're not the only one who's had the world pass you by." Those emerald eyes widened. Had he not realized it? Had he thought being in stasis somehow made the losses hurt less? _Of course he didn't realize. He was wrapped up in his own problems._ "I'm here to tell you even you don't know what it's like to wake up in the middle of this _stupid_ future, to try to get your bearings and mourn everything you've lost in the middle of the war you woke up for." The anger was pouring into his voice, but it was an even, steady fire rather than the uncontrolled inferno he had every right to unleash. "I'm here to ask you, if it's hurt you so much to be alive... how the hell do you think it feels to find out _you're_ still here, but you're the enemy I have to fight!"

For once the genius had no answer. That didn't make Lance feel as much better as he would've thought.

But there was one more yet to come. The whole bloody battlefield seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for it. Because this whole disaster, spanning so many centuries, had begun with him... a golden spark flickered into being. Then two sparks. Two eyes. A great golden lion, grizzled and scarred, though its form was still every bit as solid as stone. And beside it another human form, huge and powerful itself.

Even Lance had to gasp as the final ghost finished forming, casting his gaze over his surroundings. Because that gaze was so _warm_. Not even the grave, it seemed, could rob Hunk of his joy. But it all turned to sadness as he saw Pidge gazing up at him, looking for all the world like he'd had his heart ripped out by the sight.

"Oh, little buddy..." Hunk dropped to his knees at his dearest friend's side. "Pidge... what've you done?"

* * *

In three and a half centuries it had never hurt like _this_. Pidge couldn't answer the question, had to look away from the golden specter glowing beside him. He tried to cling to Hunk's voice, that warmth washing over him, but the sadness in it robbed whatever comfort it may have held. He'd caused that sorrow, and if anything he'd done was unforgivable, it had to be that...

"Pidge." Hunk rested a hand on his shoulder, as warm as a summer wind. "Look at me."

He struggled to lift his eyes. "I killed them," he whispered, finally forcing the answer out. "I killed all of them, I didn't have a choice, it wasn't supposed to be like this..."

"No, it wasn't," he agreed gently. "But this is where it's ended up... but it doesn't make any sense, Pidge. How am I the one person you don't hate? I was the one who went all in on the crazy charge into the middle of the bad guys. I was the one who got myself killed. Why've you hated _yourself_ for that all this time? You couldn't have stopped it. You _know_ that."

Pidge shook his head frantically, trying to keep the full import of those words from sinking in. The suggestion was absurd. He couldn't hate Hunk. Hunk couldn't ask him to hate him! "I should've gotten to you sooner, I—"

"—Couldn't have carried me outta there," Hunk interrupted wryly, and he fell silent hearing his own words thrown back at him. "You're still fighting a battle that was never yours to fight, Pidge! You can't win it. Not ever. Destroying Voltron won't win it, you dying won't win it."

 _You dying won't win it_. He paled. The one last fragile hope he'd had to hold onto, the light that had let him keep one last shred of sanity... if he could be said to have done that. "Then what? I'm trapped like this forever?" He gave Keith and Allura a betrayed look, and shot a glare at Lance while he was at it. "You all came back just to tell me I'll never..."

"No, Pidge." Allura shook her head. "We came back because you called to us. Because without us you can never let this go."

 _Let it go?!_ "Let it go? What will that even matter? I'm still stuck here! I can't give up this power, no matter how hard I try, I—"

"—But it's all connected," Hunk interrupted. "Don't you remember? Where it started?"

...Where had it all started?

He remembered. Waking up buried in debris and darkness, visceral fear replacing the cold certainty that had led him there. Green Lion's silence as he'd screamed for her, desperately reaching for her voice as he tried to make sense of the energies seething inside of him. The presence. The power of the lions had settled within his heart, and yet that power was somehow hollow.

Escaping the wreckage only made it all clear. Hunk was gone, and the others had abandoned him... he had nothing but those fragments within him, the faint shadows of what had once been his team, his family.

Pidge remembered the very moment he'd started to fall apart. And as he'd collapsed into the ash again, he had...

He had...

"Oh, gods..."

...He'd clung ever tighter to that power inside of him, begging those vestiges of presence to offer him some sanctuary. But all they had brought him was new pain, just enough memory to agonize over their absence. So he'd tightened his grip still further. A cycle of pain and despair that had soon enough birthed all the rage, all the hatred.

"I did this to myself..."

"No." Hunk's voice broke through the darkness of the memories. "You didn't know, Pidge. You couldn't have known. It's not that you turned yourself into this monster... but that you have the power to save yourself."

To save himself. It sounded like such a joke now, his old team gathered around him to dismantle the desperate walls he'd built. "By what, letting go?" A bitter laugh escaped him. "Just stop hating? Like it's that easy? You don't just let go of that!" His voice lowered, whispering the other half of that truth. "...I have nothing left, Hunk..."

Hunk just arched an eyebrow. Almost as if waiting for something. Then a slight yelp came from in front of him, and he looked up to see Lance rubbing his ribs; from the look on Keith's face, he'd just been the recipient of a ghostly elbow.

 _Some things really never do change_.

"...I guess I'm the one who's supposed to tell you how stupid those words are that just came out of your mouth," Lance snorted. "And I've got a broken hand to prove to you that _you_ know I'm an expert on hate."

Oh. There was that. Of _course_ he knew that, he'd used it as a damn weapon. Even so...

 _It's not the same._

 _Why shouldn't it be?_

 _I don't know how._

 _Remember. Remember before..._

He remembered.

He remembered the body, laid out on the stone altar in a pool of blood, the flesh more flayed than there. Averting his eyes not to see the true depths of the torture, letting denial reign for a few fleeting moments before touching Hunk's cold hand forced him to see truth.

He remembered running, cutting down everything in his path. A blind, wild charge. But it had gotten him where he was going—he'd burst into the throne room, finding Lotor there, laughing. That damnable _laugh_.

He remembered the whirlwind. Green Lion's presence blossoming within him, more powerfully than ever before. She was trying to comfort him. And in that moment he'd recognized the only comfort to be had, recognized that Green could indeed grant it, and embraced her presence with all his being.

He remembered the others. The pure elemental fury answering his call. It wasn't just the cyclone but a hurricane, an inferno, a tsunami, an avalanche... every destructive force of nature gathering in his heart, tearing at his chest from within, merging into a power so pure and radiant that for a moment, his own tears of rage had turned to awe.

He remembered, the instant before that energy engulfed him, that Lotor had stopped laughing.

For a moment he could feel it again, the purity of that power. One moment of transcendence where the lions had embraced him, where he could feel himself fading into that essence. The unity of the Force, what he'd sworn his life and soul to, settling upon him to banish all the pain and all the rage. He'd thought that must be what it was to die, and then he'd had it ripped away. But that same transcendent power was what had remained inside of him, what he'd clung to so desperately... and in that final memory everything fell into place.

In that one moment he'd let go of _himself_. But what had he done ever since? He'd succumbed to that cycle he'd trapped himself in, forgotten that sacrifice as anything but a bitter mistake that had damned him to this hell. Forgotten the very spirit of Voltron he'd been desperately so trying to reclaim.

"...I understand." He dug his fingers into the grass and the warm earth beneath it, feeling it, trying to recapture that purity of the elements. "But I don't know how to let go." He lifted his head, looking not to the ghosts but to Voltron in the distance, Black Lion's eyes somehow seeming to stare right at him. "All I've ever wanted to do is let go of this... help me. I'm listening now. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need from me!"

Something answered. A glimmer inside of him, seeming to move his spirit. The feeling was at once alien and so deeply, achingly familiar... the gentle breath of Green Lion settling into his soul, the winds that bore life rather than death. Images flashed before his eyes, not solid or concrete images but impulses, impressions—as if he were seeing emotions played out before him. A flash of light, a sky filled with screams and ash. And a terrible wave of exhaustion, the world vanishing into silence and sleep. A voice was calling out, but the memory didn't have the strength to answer. _She_ hadn't. And on the heels of that revelation came a new feeling, an overwhelming guilt and regret. But it wasn't his. It was still Green Lion speaking to him...

He shook his head in disbelief. There was only one way to interpret what he was feeling. "Are you _apologizing_ to me? After everything I've done?" It seemed so absurd. And yet... this had all begun with pain. He'd lost himself in it, but he'd had a right to that pain. A right to rage against what had been done to him, the tragic accident that had trapped him in this twilight. Maybe he couldn't even be blamed for just a fraction of his hate...

 _Let it go, my little one. Let us become part of you again, as we should be, not something you're eternally fighting in your heart._

The bell-like voice rang through him, straight into his soul. That voice he'd wished for so desperately, and yet cast aside out of bitterness when she'd reached out to him in reawakening. Raising his head he found himself staring into two glowing eyes. A ghostly emerald lioness, gazing back at him in sorrow.

Pidge finally shattered.

"I forgive you," he whispered, choking on the words as tears tried to claim supremacy. "I forgive you, I was wrong, I'm so sorry..."

 _You owe me no apologies, my windbound. Others will demand them of you, and rightfully so. But in this moment..._

It was stirring again. That transcendence of the elements building within him, the pure light that he'd called upon in one anguished moment. But this time it wasn't flooding into him. It was _leaving_. He gasped as a fog gathered, millions of tiny prisms weaving a web of color around him. The radiance inside him was flowing out into those prisms, but it didn't leave that hollow ache behind. Where the soulless energy was departing, Green Lion's gentle windsong had settled back into its place.

 _Is it really...?_

"It's over, Pidge." Hunk said it as if he could read his thoughts. In fairness, maybe he could. "It's over now."

 _It's over now_. He couldn't believe it. After centuries of wishing for this moment, how could he really believe in it? But the bloodstained knife was in the grass in front of him, and he reached for it, running his fingers along the razor edge of the blade. Pain raced over his hand, and a new trickle of blood began to flow over the knife. _His_ blood. A feeling he hadn't experienced in three and a half centuries.

"I'm bleeding," he whispered in awe. "I'm actually _bleeding_... I'd forgotten what it was like..."

 _It's really over._

Something else was happening. The fog of energy that had lifted from him was moving, the colored tendrils of light twisting out over the field. But they weren't returning to Voltron, which would have made the most sense. They were flowing into the bodies scattered over the grass.


	20. Sacrifice (2)

Reawakening  
Chapter 16: Sacrifice (2)

* * *

The whole world was sand. The ground was sand, anyway, and the ground seemed to stretch out forever. There were jagged mountains in the distance, but so far they were nothing but shadows—he wouldn't have been shocked if they'd been made out of sand too.

Imam frowned as he pulled himself to his feet, trying to get his bearings. This was all wrong. "This is not what I expected the Shrouded Lands to look like..." He paused for a moment, squinting into the distance as a large human form approached. Very large. He took a step back, then suddenly realized what he was seeing. Which didn't make it any less bizarre, actually. "...And you are _not_ one of the Lords of the Dead."

"Nope," the echo of Hunk Garrett agreed with a shrug. "Death metal, maybe! But Ghostwalker or not I don't think you're much into that."

"Death metal?" He tilted his head, well aware this was an insane conversation to be having here and now. But what else was there to do? If this was death, he had to take it as it came, he knew that. "Is that some sort of material to forge weapons from?"

"...Know what, let's not worry about that right now." He extended a hand. "I've been waitin' to meet you, even if you _are_ kinda deprived when it comes to the finer things in life."

Imam warily shook the hand he'd offered. "Interesting phrasing, when this is death. Though you are not a ghost, either."

"Nope," he agreed again. "My ghost's actually off bashin' some sense into someone whose skull's a lot thicker than yours. I'm just the imprint from when I first bonded to Yellow. But I've been watching." A slight frown crossed his face. "So I'm pretty sure I'm still gonna have to argue with you too."

 _Either Voltron's power is indeed far deeper than I dreamed, or my people have been very wrong about everything._ "Argue? Why would we argue? We are bound together by Yellow Lion, are we not?"

"That's exactly why. He sent me to catch you, actually. Before you got too far into the whole death thing." A devious little smile appeared on his predecessor's face. "He said to tell you he knows death's super exciting for you and all, but there's no vacancy in the dirt right now, so I've gotta boot you back out and tell you to pick a better time to die." Pause. "...I might've embellished on the phrasing a little."

Well. Hunk was every bit the madman he'd heard, at least. "With all respect, my friend... even so long after you lived, death is still not known to be a reversible condition."

"Not totally true! The circumstances are pretty specific though." He gestured to somewhere behind Imam. "You'd have to be pretty recently dead. You'd have to be bound to a lion. There'd have to be a big chunk of Voltron's power floatin' around loose that can find your body and heal it. Oh, and you'd have to have specifically died in a way that breaches the spirit boundary for the lions to move through—heroic sacrifice to save them would totally count." He shook his head. "Does sound pretty crazy when you put it like that, huh?"

Turning, Imam saw what looked like a doorway forged of swirling golden light. _Can that really be what he claims it is?_ This was even more wrong. This was making a mockery of the Lords of the Dead, not to mention the proper order of things. "I made that sacrifice willingly. I have no need or right to flee the consequences." Then one element of the echo's words sank in. "...Voltron's power is free? Healing? That seems an odd result of its destruction."

"Would be, wouldn't it?" That grin again. "Go back and you'll find out what's going on."

"But..."

"Dude." For a moment Hunk's expression softened. "It's okay, you know. It's okay to go back. You're not just a Ghostwalker, remember? You're Imam, of the Voltron Force." He squeezed his shoulder. "And they're gonna need you. What's any team without earth to stand on?"

 _He does have a point_...

"Then there is work yet to be done," he said softly.

"Always is."

Also true. Imam closed his eyes, knowing there was only one correct choice. "...Then I shall return to them. My place is with my team."

"Atta boy." Hunk grinned and waved as he turned and headed for the gateway, calling after him. "And learn about death metal before you come back!"

* * *

Waves were roaring, and it was cold, and those two things didn't seem to go together one bit. Larmina jumped up, shivering, and the cold seemed to fade instantly—looking around she saw a crystal clear ocean with its waves crashing on a pale beach. A closer look made her realize it wasn't sand, but snow. Freaky, but not unpleasant. It was actually kind of nice here.

 _Wherever the hell here is._

It came back to her fast, almost too fast. Kargil going down, then Daniel, then...

"...That miserable piece of trash actually _killed_ us!"

"You say that as if you were expecting something else."

 _What the?_ She paused at the voice, one that was vaguely familiar. And as she turned to face the ghostly woman standing behind her, she recognized why. It was her whole-bunch-of-greats grandmother smiling softly at her, a woman with more than enough reason to have her voice in a historical record or two. And the sight quenched her rage in an instant.

"Queen Allura..."

She nodded. "I could tell you so much right now. How you've been so strong, so brave..." The smile became wry. "...but somehow I feel like that might get me punched."

Probably. "You said it anyway," she grumbled, turning away to face the ocean. "It doesn't matter. Strong, brave, whatever. I'm still dead. Still couldn't stop that bastard. Still couldn't save Voltron."

"You say that with such confidence." Allura came up beside her, watching the ocean dance. "You stopped the Drule invasion, defeated a monster even my team would've struggled to defeat, and saved Arus from ruin. None of that brings you any comfort?"

They always _had_ said the queen was known for ideals and optimism. "Dead. Did I not make that part clear enough? D-E-A-D."

From the side she couldn't quite tell whether her predecessor's expression was a smirk or a grimace. "No, I did gather that part. You're here, after all. But you knew that was coming, didn't you? You had sworn to give your life for the Alliance, for Arus."

"For Arus." She shook her head. Yes, she'd known death was a distinct possibility in the military. More so with Voltron. More so yet again fighting the zombie emperor squid with a traitor at their backs. And by the time she'd looked up from Daniel's corpse to launch that furious charge, she'd known it damn well. But that wasn't really the issue. "Dying I could deal with. But going down like that was so... useless."

"Was it useless, Larmina? If your death had saved Voltron, would you accept it?"

Interesting question. What did accepting it have to do with anything? She was _here_. "It wouldn't be so infuriating." She crossed her arms. "Would still totally suck, though. I mean, it's nothing personal, this place is nice and all. But I was hoping to at least hit drinking age."

...That probably wasn't the sort of thing to tell an ancient queen, was it?

"Of course you were." It was definitely a smirk now, though it quickly turned into a smile filled with pride. "It's fortunate, then... that your death did indeed save Voltron." She turned, motioning for Larmina to do the same. "And now destiny sees fit to reward you for that courage."

Turning, she saw what looked like a swirling blue portal. "Wait, what now?" She looked back at the queen. "How did my dying save—no, scratch that, just—what the hell are you even _talking_ about?"

"Go find out." Allura focused on the portal. "Destiny has been warped for so long, and you weren't wrong to be angry. You weren't meant to die like this. Go back, Larmina. You have so much more to live for... so much pride yet to bring to Arus."

Well this was ridiculous. On the other hand, a few weeks ago she'd thought Voltron was ridiculous. Why not give it a try? If this was some sort of dumb joke she could always walk right back here and throw that punch after all. But before she could even take her first step, something halted her just for a moment.

"...Thanks, by the way." She offered the ghost a weak smile. "It's nice to at least have _one_ person in the family think I'm worth something."

Allura reached out and took her hand, returning the smile. "It's a Blue Lion tradition, you know. To tell others just where they can put their expectations for us." Larmina's eyes widened; that didn't seem like the sort of thing you were supposed to _hear_ from an ancient queen. "I doubt you're finished doing that either."

"Probably not," she agreed. "Full time job." And turning towards the portal, she broke into a run.

* * *

Ailurians didn't believe in heaven. When he opened his eyes, Bruno had cause to reconsider that. Maybe humans were onto something after all? The shadowy forest surrounding him could be nothing else, could it? A wind was whistling through the trees, occasionally pushing the leaves of the canopy out of place enough to see the stars above. It was pristine.

 _Beautiful_...

Someone was watching him. Turning, he saw a ghostly form seated on a tree stump, a small boy whose green eyes studied him through owlish glasses. He recognized him, though not quite from the prior battle—this was the vision from Green Lion's den, a remnant of a long lost past.

"So you succeeded."

"No," the image of Pidge answered softly. "I'm not his ghost. Only the echo that was left here long ago, when Green Lion accepted him as hers. His tether to her, essentially." He lifted his eyes to the starlit sky. "Though he _has_ succeeded, in a way."

"In a way?"

"He is mortal again... but Voltron still stands." Those eyes fell on him again. Calm and warm, nothing like the dark revenant they'd been fighting. "That was thanks to your actions, and your friends. Your sacrifice gave him another way out."

Bruno tilted his head. Of all the outcomes he might have dreamed from that battle, the idea that their _deaths_ could actually have saved Voltron—let alone Pidge—really would never have crossed his mind. "Then we've succeeded also. In a way."

"In a way," the echo agreed. "You don't seem angry to have died for this."

"I'm not." The words came out so quickly he actually surprised himself. But it was true, wasn't it? They had all entered this mission knowing it might cost them their lives. And for all the pain and terror and madness, that mission had succeeded. "The Alliance and Arus are safe. Voltron is victorious." A hesitation. "And you are no longer trapped. That's important too."

One eyebrow arched. "Is it?"

"It is. To Green Lion. And also to me. Life is not meant to be undying hell."

"No, it isn't." The boy was quiet for what felt like a long time. "...I've heard you say that so often. What life is meant to be. You believe that very strongly, don't you? That there should be an order to things... justice, maybe."

Justice? That wasn't how he'd have phrased it. But it wasn't a bad word for it, either. "Yes."

"Then tell me..." His eyes flickered with emerald light. "...Green Lion or not, what justice is there in your death? To save a stranger's soul?"

Did the echo _want_ him to be angry? "What justice was there in your suffering? Your only crime was loving your own team too deeply."

"Interesting, how you deflected that... you're clever. I think I'd enjoy talking to you more. Maybe someday..." An odd smile tugged at the corner of Pidge's lips. "And in the meantime maybe he will, if you really believe what you've told me."

Bruno was pretty sure that made no sense, no matter how clever the echo thought he was. "What do you mean?"

"I mean justice is calling you." He slid off the tree trunk, stepping forward until he stood next to Bruno, looking out over whatever was behind him. "You were killed by an aberration that never should have existed, and Voltron is trying to rectify its mistakes. Your life is summoning you back..." He looked up. "You should answer it."

 _That can't be._ _Can it?_

As he turned, he saw an emerald portal opened up between two trees, its energy swirling like a cyclone. "Voltron has this power?"

"The cycle you swore to defend has this power. Everything is falling back into place."

That he could understand. "Then I can't refuse it." He took a deep breath and stepped forward, feeling the energy from the portal beginning to reach out for him. "Thank you."

A soft laugh came from the echo. "What are you thanking me for? Thank..."

The last words were drowned out by a rush of wind. But they didn't really need to be heard. He knew.

 _You're welcome._

* * *

Everything was fire. For a brief, terrifying moment Vince had the natural implications of that spring to mind, and jumped up, not sure what that would really accomplish but too horrified to stay still... then a calm replaced the fear as his brain kicked into gear, and he remembered exactly how and why he'd died. Or more to the point, what he'd doing in the weeks that had led to that death.

Someone laughed behind him. "You gonna be okay there, dude?"

He spun around, knowing that voice, though it was slightly different. The man standing there was different too. Younger. His hair hung a bit longer around his face, without the streaks of gray. But his posture as he lounged against an obsidian monolith was the same, those eyes held the same devilish glint. And of course, he was wearing the same leather jacket.

"...Red told me I was risking my spirit with him," he muttered sullenly as Lance smirked. "Give me a break for thinking maybe that meant a trip to hell."

"Well that's the great thing about being a Red Lion pilot. Hell is lovely this time of year!"

Vince wasn't too sure how to respond to that, and decided it was better not to try. "So Pidge really killed you, too?"

"Nah. I'm not a ghost. I'm a manifestation. I'd explain it to you, because you'd probably find it interesting, but you'd ask a lot of questions and stuff and we don't have a whole ton of time." Pause. "Or we may have a whole lot of time, but that's up to you."

Vince frowned. "So what, you're the psychopomp? This is where I get to figure out where I'm spending the rest of my, uh... death?"

"Who're you calling psycho?" Lance retorted. But then at last his expression became serious. "You did a good job out there, you know. Not gonna say I couldn't have done it better myself, obviously, but still a damn good job."

That brought a blush to his cheeks that somehow managed to be hotter than the surrounding flames. "Went down swinging, I guess..."

"Swinging? _Swinging?_ I'd say you went out in a classic blaze of glory."

He supposed they had, at that. "Maybe." He looked away, shaking his head. Life had gone so insane around him, and if it hadn't ended quite how he would've hoped, it certainly hadn't lacked for excitement. Now, looking back at it, he realized he was enjoying just _breathing_ again. Hadn't done much of that lately.

...Why was he breathing? He was dead. Ish. And maybe he was actually okay with that.

"I'm exhausted," he admitted quietly. "I feel like I should be so mad that we didn't quite win everything, that I died like this after all. But I'm just tired. And I think a blaze of glory isn't such a bad way to go."

"Interesting." Lance gave him a skeptical look. "That's gonna make what I was about to tell you a little bit more complicated."

 _Huh?_ "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not exactly here to escort you to some more-dead type of death." He knelt, picking up a handful of the smoldering earth. "There's a thing about fire, kid. Even when you think it's extinguished... if there's just one little ember left, it can come right back at full strength." A flame erupted from the ash in his hands.

Suddenly it fully registered to Vince just who he was talking to. It wasn't Lance McClain, their instructor and commander. It was Lance McClain, the pilot of Red Lion, the hero who'd won one awful war only to go under stasis and wait for another. "...Guess I kind of sound like a quitter to you, don't I?"

"Ironically enough, if you were a quitter you wouldn't be here. You would've backed off and not died in the first place. But you _did_ die. You died because you weren't willing to just roll over and quit. And you left behind one tiny little ember..." He arched a challenging eyebrow. "Now you've got to decide if you really want to rest all that badly, or if you want to bring that ember back to life."

...Oh. Really? Well as long as it wasn't a big decision, or anything. "...Do I have time to think about it?"

"Not really." Lance shook his head. "There's a window, and it's closing. But you're going to have plenty of time to be dead, you know. Why not get as much out of life as you can?"

Why not? Other than the completely uncertain circumstances he'd left behind, of course. "You probably can't tell me what I'm going back to, huh?"

"Nope!" He chuckled, gesturing to somewhere behind Vince. "What's the worst that can happen, though? You'll die again?"

"Fair point." Following Lance's gaze, he saw a fiery doorway at the edge of the lava. _Okay then.._. "Not gonna lie, I would've expected a magical portal back to the land of the living to look a little bit less _terrifying_."

"Red Lion, dude. You'll have to get used to it sooner or later. Something else to work on after you go back."

Maybe so. "I'll... see what I can do," he agreed with a nervous laugh, stepping towards the gateway. Even from here he could feel a warmth that was very different from the heat of the fire. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 _Whoa..._

It was hard to make sense of the lay of the land, though Daniel made a valiant attempt at it. The ground was flat and smooth, dotted with crystalline pillars of some sort. The sky was pitch dark, except not—the lightning dancing in the black clouds above was so constant it bathed the barren plain in a ghostly light. It was incredibly creepy... though also pretty cool. But what caught his attention quickly in the otherwise motionless landscape was a tall human form walking towards him.

His jaw dropped. _That can't be..._

But it was, there was no mistaking it. The man stopped in front of him and nodded an acknowledgment. "Daniel."

"You know my _name?"_

"Of course." Keith Kogane, the greatest legend of all legends, crossed his arms. "I've been watching you. So has the echo of every other pilot Black Lion has ever had, but Black was pretty certain I'd be the one you wanted to see."

His voice somehow managed to come out as a squeak and a shout at once; it was incredibly undignified. "He um, he wasn't wrong... uh, no offense other Black Lion pilots, really, it's just... um."

Keith gave a low chuckle. "Calm down. You've done very well."

If he hadn't already been dead, Daniel was pretty sure those words would've killed him. "I, uh... I mean, of course I did! Erm, I mean..." But what finally made it solidly into his mind surprised even him. "... _We_ did a good job."

That seemed to please the ghostly form. "Yes. All of you did."

Something about this discussion was bothering him, something about why he was here. Why he'd died. Then his eyes widened as it all flooded back. "What about the others, are they okay? Did they stop him, did they manage to get Voltron away somehow?"

Keith closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "No. They died, just the same as you did. For Voltron. And in a way, for you."

 _For me._ There had been a time that would've made him feel good, important. Now it just made him feel guilty. "I wanted to be a hero," he said softly. "I should've at least been able to save them, if not Voltron."

"I never said you didn't save Voltron."

 _Huh?_ Daniel frowned, tilting his head and looking at Keith in confusion. "How could we have? We all died."

"Do you really want a long metaphysical explanation here? You don't even like paying attention in your classes."

Oh _that_ wasn't fair. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to pretend he wasn't blushing furiously. "Well I mean, if we did something right shouldn't we know about it? That's what Lance always does, tells us what we did right and did wrong, for next... oh." If he could get any brighter red, he did. "But I guess there's not much of a next time, huh?"

"You'd be surprised." The echo pointed over his shoulder. "Which is another reason you probably won't want a long explanation. All you really need to know is that your sacrifice _did_ save Voltron. And now the same powers that brought you here are converging to reward that bravery."

 _What...?_ Daniel looked over his shoulder, and was greeted by a silvery portal wreathed in lightning. "Oh, _cool._ Kind of creepy, but cool..." Well why not? Everything else here was creepy-cool, the mysterious lightning portal might as well be too. "...um, what is it, exactly?"

"Black Lion. Calling you back." Keith's expression was solemn, almost stern. "It wasn't your time yet. So the question is, will you accept his call again?"

Strange. He would've expected to jump at the chance, but instead something made him pause. The ghostly form's other words, maybe. _They all died, just like I did._ "What about the others? Are they... staying, or going back?"

Keith studied him carefully, then shook his head. "Each of you has to make your own decision, Daniel."

That at least seemed to indicate they _had_ the choice, but it still didn't give him the answer he needed. "How am I supposed to make that decision alone?" He lowered his eyes. "All my life I just wanted to fly Black Lion, to be a part of Voltron. But I finally get what that really _means_ now. What's a Black Lion pilot without the others? If I'd be going back by myself I might as well just stay here."

"Maybe you should, if that's how you feel." The echo stepped forward, resting a firm hand on his shoulder, icy blue eyes drilling into his. "Or maybe now it's your turn to have faith."

That was hard to argue with, actually. _What's a Black Lion pilot without a Force? But what's a Force without a Black Lion pilot? I can't just stay here because I'm afraid they won't be there. I have to go back for them... believe in them_. "Guess I'd better get out of here fast then, huh?"

"Guess you'd better." He smiled. "Remember this, Daniel. Remember that faith isn't in Voltron alone, but the Voltron Force."

Daniel nodded. "I'll remember. I'll keep making you proud." He saluted, meeting Keith's eyes as the echo returned the gesture, then turned and headed for the portal.

* * *

Lance couldn't begin to figure out what he was feeling. He couldn't even look everywhere at once. The ghosts, the lion spirits, Pidge bleeding on the ground... and the colored streams of energy that had gathered around the dead bodies of the new Force. The bodies themselves were glowing softly. And as if on some signal, the lions all scattered and crossed over to the bodies, soaking up the energy and vanishing.

Hunk looked up. "Time to go, already?" Pidge's head snapped up, eyes widening, and the ghost chuckled and patted his shoulder before he could speak. "Relax, little buddy. Can't hang around here forever, but we'll be waitin'. You know that." He stood and turned to Lance, smiling broadly. "Waiting for _you_ too, dude. But don't hurry on our account."

 _The mystery of metaphysics is overrated anyway_. Somehow Lance let a smirk cross over his face. "Just don't wreck the place. That's gonna be my job."

"Totally." Hunk winked. At the same time, Keith and Allura turned their attention to him too, nodding as they began to fade away.

Despite himself, Lance had to fight down the urge to yell for them not to go. _Pull yourself together! Just be glad that you saw them at all. You still have a lot of work to do_... scolding himself didn't do a damn thing about the ache. But it steeled him as the ghosts vanished in a shimmer of light. There was one left, after all.

But before he could look to Pidge, he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. His jaw dropped. The kids were moving. _Holy cats._ Was that even a metaphor at this stage? There was no mistaking it. They were shifting tentatively, as though waking from stasis themselves rather than the grip of death. "You guys..."

Daniel was the first one to actually open his eyes, raising his head and looking around the field. First to Voltron, then to Pidge, and finally to Lance. "...Did we miss all the fun?"

"Miss, nothing! I had fun, didn't the rest of you have fun?"

"I am uncertain 'fun' is exactly the word I would use."

"You _guys!"_ Lance would've run to them, except there were five of them in different places. Also that would've done horrible things to his reputation. But he'd never imagined he could be so damn happy to see someone who wasn't a member of his own team.

"Yeah, we know. You already said that," Vince smirked as he climbed to his feet. Then he too noticed Pidge, who was staring at the kids with nearly as much shock as Lance himself. He supposed seeing people come back from the dead would do that, though he _had_ just been immortal and talking to ghosts. "So uh, clearly we did miss something?"

"We were successful." It somehow didn't surprise him that Bruno fielded the question. "Our deaths lifted his curse. The cycle was restored. And so were we."

"So you mean we can kill him now!"

Lance couldn't blame Larmina for that reaction, but looking down at Pidge something else was forming in his own mind. _After everything he's done, after all the pain he's caused..._ "Yeah. You could kill him. You could finally give him what he wants."

"You could. But you don't have to." Pulling the knife closer to himself, the young man turned to Lance and shook his head. "I can do it myself... they don't need to become executioners too, there's been enough of that today."

"No, Pidge." Lance looked down at him and shook his head. The words came slowly; part of it was for emphasis. Part of it was just that he was making this up as he went along, yet he knew it was right. Knew it was the only way. "You don't get off that easy. Just putting Voltron's power back in the Nexus isn't going to fix whatever damage you just did to it, let alone magically heal the three and a half centuries of half-powered disrepair. We're _not_ just going to seal it back up to become someone else's problem. There's a lot of work left to do, and you're going to help."

Bruno took that statement in stride, but he was the only one who did. The rest of the team exchanged shocked glances and then turned them on Lance, protesting loudly, their arguments tripping over each other in a rush of tangled words and fiery snarls. Pidge himself recoiled as surely as if he'd actually been struck.

"Are you kidding me? We don't need him!" Daniel's voice finally managed to drown out his teammates, turning on Lance in a fury. "We don't need him, we don't want him! If you don't have the stomach for it, _we'll_ send him straight to hell where he belongs." His claws flared into existence, as if to prove his point.

"Stand down and shut up, Daniel. You've done nothing but goof off through every engineering class, you're the _last_ person who gets to say what we do or don't need. And I'm going to ignore the rest of that statement, only because you've already been dead once today and for some reason, I'm still happy to see you. That's your _one_ warning."

Daniel wasn't stupid. He shut up.

"You should listen to them, Lance." Pidge's eyes were on the Black Lion pilot's sparking claws, their lightning still casting an eerie glow over him. "Your team's proven itself... and I've done more than enough damage."

"Yeah, you have. Which is why you don't just get to skip out." Lance's eyes narrowed. "You owe us, Pidge. You owe us big time. And I don't know if what you've done here can ever be forgiven... but if you want to even have a _chance_ of being something more than a monster again, you have to try."

"He is correct," Imam said softly. "Do you imagine the dead do not regret? Will you find peace in your rest, if your last act in life was such bloodshed and madness?"

That seemed to get his attention.

* * *

...There it was again.

Pidge kept his eyes on the ground. How long he'd been dreaming of this moment, hoping against hope for this release... he'd finally managed to forgive that curse that had unwittingly been placed on him. He'd set aside all the pain, all the rage, only to have the reward snatched away from him? Only to hold the far greater anguish of knowing what he'd done, and being unable to escape it?

He'd told himself so many lies, and even come to believe them. The Alliance was the heartless villain, Voltron was at fault for the attackers it faced... blaming everything else, to try to give himself some shroud to hide behind. Teaching himself to hate. To believe somehow he'd kept his righteousness despite this hell.

Of course he hadn't!

All he wanted was to finally end it. To follow Hunk's ghost to whatever afterworld he was waiting in, fall into his dearest friend's arms, and cry forever. Perhaps literally. But the longer he sat here having to argue about it, the less simple it seemed. What was he supposed to do? Run from it, hope that death really was the ultimate catharsis he'd been dreaming it would be all this time? Or remain and try to pick up the pieces he'd left in his wake...

 _The people you killed weren't given that choice_.

That truth broke cold and hard over him. For so long he would have given anything to die. How many of them would have given anything to live?

 _It doesn't matter. You did what you had to do._

 _No..._

The old selfishness wasn't coming so easily anymore. It _hurt_. It hurt more than anything. Yet he couldn't just shove it aside, rationalize it as he once had. He'd done what he had to? No. He had committed so many grievous sins... the tears were fighting to spring forward again and this time he couldn't stop them. They fell. He sobbed silently into the grass, the tears mingling in a small pool with his blood. That blood. The promise of it not yet his to fulfill...

Darkness fell over him.

Raising his head, Pidge saw a great, furry paw reaching out, shrouded in shadow as the huge body it was attached to blocked the light. "Stand up, brother. You have hope now. Let go of the tears."

Squinting into the shadows, he could hardly help the reality. For a moment, it wasn't the Ailurian he was seeing. It was someone else's powerful muscles and gentle smile. The moment faded swiftly, but its power stuck with him as he turned the words over in his head.

 _Brother_...

Was there hope? He didn't know. But Lance was right, they were all right. He couldn't run from this. So maybe. Just maybe... he reached up and pressed his fingers against the cat man's paw. _I won't surrender. Not yet._ Slowly he pulled himself to his feet, leaning on his successor's strength against the exhaustion falling over him. Another feeling he'd nearly forgotten. So much to relearn, to remember... and maybe to hope for.

"...Okay."


	21. Returning to Life

Reawakening  
Chapter 17: Returning to Life

* * *

Ultimately, Lance knew that if Pidge really wanted to kill himself he couldn't stop him. He was still a damn ninja. So he hadn't bothered to try to find a padded cell to stick him in, or even go through the bedroom he'd assigned him and remove any sharp objects. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to show him a little trust.

Trust. Heh. After all that had happened, he trusted Pidge significantly less far than he could throw him... which didn't sound at all unattractive, actually.

Lance wasn't quite certain what to do with himself now—well, other than resolutely ignoring a pile of Alliance information requests that he wasn't at all ready to deal with. Did he just leave his long-lost teammate shut up and alone, and go to the kids he'd known for less than two months? Or did he prioritize the murderous lunatic who'd nearly destroyed Voltron, and leave the team that had given literally everything to stop him to their own devices? _Yeah, phrasing it like that is really going to help you make a decision, isn't it?_ It just underscored why it was so damn difficult. Both options had great arguments for _and_ against.

Maybe he should just say to hell with it all and go hang out by himself.

"That would be fun, wouldn't it?" he muttered to nobody in particular as he walked down the hall. "Could run off and become a famous intergalactic smuggler like the old rumors said. Should've done that in the first place. Way cooler retirement plan."

Every few steps, he glanced back at the door to Pidge's room, expecting it to open despite being triple locked. Good to see his paranoia was as intact as ever. Why shouldn't it be? Better to be grumpy than depressed, anyway. It would be very easy to get depressed.

 _They couldn't have stuck around just a little longer..._

He kept trying not to think like that, but there it was. His own angle on this. He was allowed, want he? Aside from the future being stupid, it hadn't given him a whole lot of personal space. The kids thought he was a slave driver, but whatever—every bit of slave driving he'd inflicted on the cadets, he'd been right there alongside them. And finally he'd gotten to see the others again... just long enough to remind him he was alone here. Still.

Of course, certain cadets had told him he wasn't _all_ alone here. They were right, and they meant well. But it just... wasn't the same. Not right now.

What he hadn't quite anticipated was for his internal debate to resolved by someone else. But when he reached the rec room, where he fully expected to find his cubs—where in fact the cubs _had_ been when he'd checked their voltcom signatures fifteen minutes ago—nothing but a room full of empty furniture greeted him. "Okay then! Guess that answers that question." Sighing, he flopped down on a couch and threw his hands behind his head. "...Can't really blame them though."

Hard to blame them for anything when they'd been _dead_. At least, for right now. That little honeymoon would not extend too far into whatever came next.

 _What does happen next?_

He hadn't ever stopped to think about that, either. One more war seemed simple enough. What happened after that one more war? They would have to fix Voltron, of course; it was presently sitting fully-formed in Black Lion's den due to the fused interlocks. But what happened after that? He'd never even been all that good at dealing with life after Voltron last time, hence his silly idea to get stuck here in the first place. Now he had to think about life after Voltron in a world he was barely a part of.

Not to mention if anyone tried to throw a big party and call them heroes, he might punch them. And this time when he broke his hand he'd take their jawbone in the deal.

For a fleeting second he contemplated Pidge's solution. Maybe dying would be the simplest thing. He'd done his duty, gone above and beyond and side to side and everywhere else... if anyone had the right to just step away from it and die, surely he did, right?

 _Yeah, right. You're not even seriously considering that, are you? You're gonna have plenty of time to be dead. The war is over, you have time to figure this world_ out _now. So you'll stop your moping and do it._

What would he have been doing back in the day, anyway? Most likely going out bar crawling, dragging along whoever he could, telling war stories and getting very cheerfully drunk in celebration. Not really an option right now; the team's PR still had some recovery to do. But the castle _did_ have kitchens. And he _was_ in the rec room, all alone.

A slight smirk crept over Lance's face. "Screw it." His attention turned to the room's main holoscreen. "Some things sure as hell can't have changed. I'm gonna find a beer and a football game, and nobody's gonna stop me."

Maybe after that he could think about his upcoming smuggling career.

* * *

"Shouldn't we have waited for Lance first? I mean, at least to tell him where we were going? He might worry."

"The voltcoms track us, don't they? If he wants to find us it won't be that hard."

"Do you think he will be upset? He has undergone a not-insignificant ordeal himself."

"Uh, he wasn't _dead_. Besides, he's got to babysit Mr. Suddenly Good Guy."

"In any case. We'll be back. I think he'll understand."

The forest seemed somehow brighter than ever. Bruno had brought them out here from the uncomfortable silence of the rec room, but he was trailing behind the rest of the team. Letting them choose the path. He knew every inch of this place, after all; it would be interesting to see where the others' instincts took them. Right now, unsurprisingly, those instincts were keeping them far away from the scorched half of the forest. There was plenty alive here yet.

It was such a simple thing, in the end. How were they to deal with returning from death? As they struggled to answer that question, surrounding themselves with life seemed like the clearest solution.

Besides, Bruno had a promise to keep...

"What were they like?" Daniel was the first one to ask the question they all were probably thinking. "The old pilots, I mean. You all saw them, right?"

"Dude, why're you asking _us_ that?" Vince shot him a side-eye. "We met them, and you still probably know more about them than we do. ...Well, maybe except mine, who was pretty much exactly what you'd expect a younger Lance to be. _Exactly_."

"My predecessor was very... interesting." Imam's eyes glowed. "What is 'death metal'?"

Daniel and Vince exchanged glances, then both snickered. "It's a kind of music, allegedly. You wouldn't like it. Frankly it's of minimal artistic value."

"I don't know, we could write a killer song about Kargil." Larmina dropped to her knees and strummed an invisible instrument, singing in a deep growl. "He's giant and rotting, he's evil and blue, the zombie squid emperor is coming for you!"

Imam looked at her blankly, then turned his attention to Bruno, who shrugged. He rather liked some human music, but preferred what they called classical. Something told him death metal was the exact opposite. Then the full absurdity hit; he chuckled, and the Ghostwalker joined in the laughter. It felt _good_ to laugh. What did it matter if they really understood the joke?

"That's more of your royal rebellion in action, right?" Vince smirked.

"Totally." She stood again, leaning back against a thick tree trunk and crossing her arms. "Queen Allura wasn't so bad, though." Then, if he wasn't much mistaken, a bit of a blush sprang to her cheeks. "She actually liked me, so there's that."

"That must have been quite fascinating. To speak with your own ancestor. Though I am sure they all were fascinating... they could hardly be less, to have built such a legacy."

"Yeah." Daniel tilted his head. "So everyone just saw the one who came right before you? Keith told me _every_ former Black Lion pilot had been watching me." His eyes lit up a bit at the mention of his predecessor, though his tone became a little sheepish. "Kind of weird to think about that much of an audience, but hey, we rocked it, so..."

Vince didn't seem to think it was quite that cool, though Imam looked unsurprised. Larmina shrugged. "Guess ghosts have to do something with their time. We gave them a good show, right?"

"We did that!"

For his part, Bruno thought it was best not to address these questions. Not unless they directly asked him to, anyway. His own predecessor was still a matter of great contention. That was only natural. He felt a connection to his fellow Green Lion pilot, but at the same time his first loyalty must be to his team; at the very least he shouldn't discomfort them with it. So as the others lapsed back into silence, he decided it was time to get down to business.

"I think we've come far enough."

"Wait, huh? Far enough for what?"

"Didn't I promise to teach you how to climb trees?" He grinned and extended his claws. "Watch carefully!"

"Um, Bruno," Vince broke in before he could demonstrate. "Not that falling out of trees doesn't sound like a fun morning, but you know _we_ don't have claws, right?"

"Speak for yourself!" Daniel winked and produced his voltcom claws.

"I think those may be somewhat... overzealous for the task at hand, sir."

"You know, Imam, you don't actually have to call me 'sir' when we're just out goofing off. I mean you can if you want to, but you don't have to."

The Ghostwalker nodded. "I understand, sir."

Larmina snickered. "You know, the voltcom armors had pretty pointy fingertips." She called hers up and wiggled her fingers at the others. "Bet they're there just in case you have to climb a wall all ninja-style or something."

The others summoned their armor too, confirming her observations. Daniel banished his weapons with a dramatic sigh. "Boring. Probably works better, but boring."

"Hey, boring is better than cracking our skulls open." Vince shrugged. "Guess I'm out of excuses. Let's see it, Bruno."

He chuckled. "It's like the Academy climbing wall. If you can find natural handholds it helps. Claws just allow more flexibility." Gauging the largest of the nearby trees, he put his hands on two knots in the wood to start, then made his way up to the lowest branch. "You see?"

The others exchanged glances, then Larmina turned to one of the other trees and dug her fingers in. "Last one up is a rotten chicken!"

"Hey! That's not even the right insult!" Vince picked a tree of his own, scrambled halfway up the bark, then lost his grip; he slid back down, leaving several deep claw furrows behind. "...Yep. Awesome."

Imam laughed and helped him up. "I think you are letting competition get the better of you, my friend. This is more her natural skill set; there is no shame in being beaten. Come, I will climb with you."

After watching for a few minutes to be sure nobody was breaking anything on themselves, Bruno returned his attention to his own tree, heading up about twenty more feet. An excellent vantage point to watch the others fall and bicker. There really was an odd charm to that. Though he quickly noticed one of the most prolific arguers was missing. Looking around in confusion, he finally located the black-armored human... climbing up in his own chosen tree.

 _Of course. Why wouldn't he?_

"You don't lack for ambition," he observed as he watched their leader making his way between the branches.

"Nope! Not even a little! Besides, I wanted to talk. I _did_ notice you ducking my question earlier."

 _Hmm._ "I wasn't ducking it." He offered a paw, but Daniel seemed determined to make it up by himself. "I thought it might not be meant for me to answer. My predecessor caused great damage."

"Yeah, and you're the only one of us who's seen him not insane. Obviously meant something to you, you went to him. After we came back, I mean."

Ah. Yes, he'd done that. It had been partly Green Lion driving him, though not entirely... he nodded. "He was kind. Sad. Nothing like the cruel demon we faced. But you already knew that. Didn't you? He was one of the past pilots. That evil couldn't have been his true nature."

"Well y—agh!" For a moment he had to concentrate on his climbing, as a small branch snapped beneath his foot. "I don't know how you make this look so easy!"

"Practice." This time the paw he offered was accepted. "You'll improve. But I think you're a bit preoccupied right now."

"Maybe." Daniel pulled himself up on the branch and shook his head, lowering his voice. "Something's just been... bothering me. When I first came here, I was so certain commanding Voltron was my destiny. My right, you know? Black Lion smacked me down pretty hard about that, about feeling entitled." A sheepish grin spread over his face. "He wasn't wrong, but that's the same reason he called me. I thought it was my destiny. He said I had faith."

Bruno nodded slowly. He remembered wondering himself why the impulsive, cocky human had been chosen to lead. But he'd learned, hadn't he? "Clearly he also had faith in you. And not unwarranted."

"Heh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I aced it, right? But I keep wondering. I thought I hated Pidge so damn much. He turned on Voltron—he turned on the same thing I wanted more than anything, the place and the team he _had_. How could anyone do that?" Sigh. "But Keith said something that's had me thinking, and then you..."

 _Interesting_. Daniel wasn't usually one for great thoughtfulness, but then, Bruno _had_ noticed he'd taken Pidge a little more personally than the rest of them. "Go on."

"He had faith. He had faith in Voltron, faith in the Force. Lots of it. And it blew up in his face, literally." His violet eyes lowered. "I can't stop wondering how much of a jackass I could've turned into, if I'd had what I thought was my destiny ripped away like that..."

"...If you'd had your faith broken," Bruno realized.

"Yeah."

 _A reasonable thing to wonder._ He chose his words carefully; he didn't want to seem dismissive. "You can't dwell on that, Daniel. There are too many variables. But consider. You'd have had to fail to have had that destiny torn away. You did not fail. That speaks well for you."

"Dude, didn't you ever listen to Captain Andrews? Failure builds character."

"I'm not sure we could handle you with more character." Pause. Had Daniel, of all people, really just invoked the one instructor more painful than Captain Morton? "And truthfully I rarely listened to Captain Andrews. Her obstacle courses were enjoyable. Her screaming was not. _You_ listened to her?"

"Only long enough to decide to stop." He smirked, then became serious again. "But maybe you're right. I mean, I _didn't_ go there. Just a little creepy to think about, you know?"

"I know." Bruno reached out and patted his shoulder. "Let it go here, Daniel. We have plenty of time for worry. For now we were successful. Be here with us. Breathe. Live. You don't need to fear what could've been."

"...Yeah." Another sheepish little grin. "You _are_ right. Thanks for the backup, Catman."

Even now that nickname made him chuckle. "Always."

* * *

It was nearly sunset when they trooped back into the castle. Oh, they'd considered going in for lunch, but ultimately skipped raiding the kitchens in favor of a lesson on local fruits and berries. For a hulking cat creature who looked like he could disembowel people on a whim, Bruno _really_ had that child of nature thing going.

Nothing wrong with that. Larmina liked nature. It was wide open and wild and free and all that stuff. It wasn't the flow and freedom of the dojo, but it wasn't half bad either. Also, she'd totally out-climbed the other guys, which was a definite plus. But nature or not, wild Arusian shadeberries were not lunch, and she joined in plundering the main kitchen with great enthusiasm.

The castle staff was plenty used to this by now. It had been the only way to sneak meals in between classes half the time.

Carting their spoils to the rec room, they found Lance. He was kicked back in a recliner sipping a beer—not his first, judging from the cans on the table next to him—with three different football games up on the holoscreens. Their commander looked just as surprised to see them as they were to see him. And that was pretty damn surprised.

 _The slave driver's human after all?_

"Busted..." He looked chagrined, briefly, then swept his gaze over them and shrugged. "Eh, whatever." Saluting them with his beer, he leaned back again and took a long drink. "You guys been having fun? _I've_ been watching the Galactic Gridiron Marathon."

Nature was nice and all, but despite herself Larmina was suddenly jealous. "And you didn't invite us?"

Imam's eyes were locked on the monitors; he looked fascinated. Did Ghostwalkers play football? "In fairness, we were not here to be invited."

"Seriously. What've you been up to all day?"

"We've been climbing trees," Vince smirked. "You couldn't do it with that much beer in you."

"Dude. This barely even counts. Future beer is awful. I keep hoping I'll drink enough that I'll stop realizing how awful it is." He certainly didn't seem drunk. Just loose. Yep, actually human. "There's about five hours left to go, if you guys want to join in."

Daniel arched an eyebrow. "Sure. Share your drinks? I mean, if future beer is so bad and all."

 _Dammit, he beat me to_ _it!_ Larmina shot him an indignant look on principle.

"Oh no you don't. I'm not going to corrupt the fine upstanding youth of the future with the terrible sin of alcohol." For a moment he plastered on a sardonically pious look, then rolled his eyes and gestured to the couches. "On the other hand, maybe I am. You're old enough to die for the Alliance, you're old enough to celebrate with a beer. Just this once, though. Next time you'll have to sneak it out of the kitchens like any other self-respecting eighteen year olds."

Was this what it was like to be lion pilots during peacetime? Larmina could definitely get used to it. Probably wouldn't really last, but might as well enjoy it while she could. With a silent thanks to Blue Lion and Queen Allura, she grabbed her dinner and flopped into a chair. "So who's winning?"

Shrug. "No idea. I've recognized exactly two team names all day."

What she was also noticing, much to her own irritation, was one glaring absence in the room. From their surreptitious glances around it looked like the others were noticing too. But it didn't seem like anyone was inclined to ask. Not that she really _cared_ where their sudden supposed ally had gotten to, but still. Weird. She'd thought the boss was supposed to be babysitting.

"You are certain you do not mind our company, Commander?" Imam asked as he picked a seat. "You have been through a great deal recently as well."

"I'm sure. Kind of gotten to like you little punks." He winked, then looked away. "...And seriously, it's good to see you guys. Don't expect me to admit that again any time soon, but it is."

"Of course not," Bruno chuckled, then finally asked the question they were all grudgingly wondering. "...Where is Pidge?"

Lance grimaced. "Sleeping, or faking it. I've checked in on him a few times to make sure he's still alive, but beyond that, well... I'm not quite ready to go there yet."

...Even more human.

"Can't blame you." Larmina looked for something reassuring, then decided maybe reassurance wasn't what was needed here. "Deal with him later. Deal with football now. I'll teach you team names."

The others exchanged skeptical glances again. But why not? The boss had taught them how to fly the lions, how to be the Voltron Force. Now that Voltron had won, maybe it was their turn to teach him some things. To prove that the future really wasn't so bad after all, once you got to know it.

Daniel was the first to follow up, scowling at the drink he'd acquired. "...And I'll teach you where to find beer that _isn't_ awful. Bet they stocked the castle with this junk just to discourage drinking on the job."

All eyes fell on him, and everyone seemed to decide at the same time that yeah, this was Daniel, there was no real reason to ask how he would know about it. "I'll totally take you up on that."

As the others started tossing out ideas and settling in, Larmina cracked open her first ever beer and took a big gulp... and nearly spit it out. It really _was_ pretty bad. _Or maybe it's just an acquired taste?_ This merited further experimentation. Maybe they all had more to learn.

* * *

He'd told Pidge to get in touch if he needed him; he had expected to be waiting more on the order of hours than days. But the longer it took, the more Lance knew he _should_ check in, the less he wanted to. The former pilot knew the castle, he could take care of himself, right?

 _You just don't want to go open that door and find him dead. But you don't really think he's dead. So stop being such a chicken and go hunt him down._

Three awkward days later, he finally went looking, and found Pidge in the crypts. Of course he would be! He kicked himself for not thinking of that before. Not that he'd really come to any conclusions about how to deal with this at all. There was no getting around the fact that this young man had put them through hell.

No, that wasn't quite right. He wasn't young anymore.

If that hadn't been abundantly clear enough already, it was all written in his eyes as he looked up. "Hey..." He was sitting on the floor, leaning back against Hunk's tomb, arms crossed on his knees; it looked like he'd been crying.

"Hey." It was hard not to snarl at him. He'd defiled Voltron's power, what right did he have to be _here_? But at the same time, it wasn't as if he were here insincerely. No. Whatever he'd become, whatever else he'd done, there could be no question Pidge had mourned the others deeply. Too much so. Just because he'd been an absolute jackass about it...

He still glared. Plenty. But there was a limit to how long even Lance could just stand there and look angry. _You barged in on him, you can't just walk back out. Might as well say something._ "So how are you... adjusting?"

A slight frown told him Pidge recognized that for what it was—an attempt to fill the silence. But he apparently shared the sentiment, because he answered it anyway. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. I keep forgetting to eat." A shudder ran through him. "Can't really forget to sleep, it forces the issue. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately," Lance agreed softly. He knew a little something about that. "Sounds inconvenient."

"A little. It's not all bad though. Having a concept of a future again is... interesting."

Part of Lance was reconsidering coming down here. It had been so much easier when he could hold onto the hatred Pidge had so richly earned. He was alive to atone for his crimes, to make himself useful, and that was all. Just a damn tool—in every sense of the word. It was easy enough to hold onto that in theory. But seeing him, speaking to him, hearing the anguish in his words? It was impossible not to feel a glimmer of sympathy...

And he did understand, a little. What he'd said out there on that battlefield ran both ways. He knew what it was like to wake up to a world where everything was different, where all he had were memories and a mission to cling to. But to not sleep until that point? For the only mission left to be seeking out a death that wouldn't come?

 _What would I have done?_ He didn't want to think about that; the mere question chilled his blood.

"You were immortal," he said finally. "And now that you're _not_ you start thinking about a future?"

Pidge hesitated. His tentativeness was so strange, remembering the confident genius he'd once been—never mind the hateful monster he'd become. "I was immortal... but I wasn't alive. I couldn't see anything but how I'd failed, what I'd lost. How badly I wanted to die." His voice broke a little. "What can you even call that? But now... I can try to make things better, I can do something that matters... I can... hope." A soft, painful laugh. "Hope for a redemption I won't likely earn is better than no hope at all."

He said that so easily, and it tugged at Lance's heart. _How did it come to this? Really?_ "Why didn't you just come back here when you first woke up? We could've done... something, surely..."

Pidge looked away and shivered. "It took me two years or so to get off of Galra. I had a huge field of scrap to work with, but digging through it, finding the right parts and what could pass as tools, trying to put together something remotely spaceworthy all by myself? I was so afraid I'd be stuck _there_ forever." A flicker of fear had returned to his voice. "By the time I managed to get away, I was already too far gone."

...He hadn't even thought about that angle. Of course he'd had to find some way _off_ that hellhole they'd left behind. But at the same time... they had returned to Galra. Five years after the battle, they'd gone back to place a memorial. What if he hadn't found a way to escape? What if they could've found him then, headed all this off? What if, what if, what if.

So many what-ifs. Which also sort of put the lie to the idea that Pidge being an irredeemable jackass was an inherent truth.

 _I can't. I can't hate him... no matter how hard I try..._ he was accepting that now. Maybe he didn't have to fight it. Maybe that hate would only hurt him too. After all... _we're all we have left._ He looked at Pidge, and for a moment he could see that cheerful young warrior again. His brother. _We're all that's left of our world_.

"...Hey." He offered his good hand, part of him still disbelieving his own body's actions. "C'mere."

Pidge tilted his head, standing slowly. "Did you need me for something?"

He had to phrase it like _that_. Lance stared at him, swallowing back the swells of emotion trying to choke his words before he could speak them. "Yeah. Yeah, I..." He shook his head. "I'm not apologizing, Pidge. We did everything we could. Everything we could possibly have thought to do."

Nod. "I know you did."

Yeah. Maybe he really did, now that he didn't have the insanity hanging over him. "But... I am sorry. I'm sorry for what happened to you." He put his hand on his shoulder, feeling the startled flinch. "And I'm still not letting you off for what you've done. But I'll be here to help you try to come back from it. You know, if you want."

Pidge looked up at him, eyes wide. "I..." Then he looked at Lance's hand and nodded. "I'm going to need all the help I can get, aren't I?"

"You really are." His eyes narrowed. "On which topic, I'm not the only person involved here."

From the way he paled, he obviously knew what _that_ meant. But it was time. Time to bring the Force, the whole Force, together—no matter how hard it would be.

* * *

Being the Voltron Force with nothing to fight was starting to get weird. It wasn't a bad kind of weird. But they'd had so little free time, what with the Drules and the crazy immortal breathing down their necks, that things like hobbies had only been squeezed into spare moments. Now, with a break in training, no combat, and no classes, they couldn't just _fake_ figuring out what they had in common anymore. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it was making for some long silences while they tried to figure it out. They couldn't climb trees all the time.

Not even Daniel felt much like playing Lion Force lately. "Know what would be fun today? A movie marathon. We could lock ourselves in here with every bag of popcorn we can scrounge up..."

"That would be enjoyable. You have my vote."

"I'm game."

"Sure, why—"

Right then the door slid open. And as Lance stepped into the rec room, a silence immediately fell over the group. He wasn't alone. A slim figure in black and gray trailed behind him like a shadow, his green eyes fixed resolutely on the floor.

 _Uh oh, here it goes_... so much for the carefree movie marathon.

"Hey, kiddos." Lance's voice was firm, though not cold or angry. More like he knew damn well this was going to go badly and wanted them to think twice about meeting his expectations. "I think it's about time you all formally met the guy who killed you, and I know that's gonna be awkward. Deal."

From the look on Pidge's face, he was looking forward to this even less than the rest of them. He probably wasn't wrong.

Exchanging skeptical glances with the others, Daniel bit back his first inclination to snarl. That talk in the forest was still on his mind. But not even Bruno had moved to greet the new arrival. He shifted warily in his place on the couch, eyes still on the others; it seemed he was waiting to let his team react. Larmina was bristling, her eyes smoldering with disgust, while Imam gave off an icy calm that wasn't hostile, but wasn't welcoming either. Vince just looked nervous. And as for their leader, well...

He stood, drawing a deep breath. He hadn't forgotten. He sure as hell hadn't forgiven. But he could understand, couldn't he? He could understand the former Green Lion's rage at having his faith shattered. And the rest? Well... he _had_ been ready to stay dead himself if he didn't have a team to go back to.

 _I don't have to like him. But maybe I kind of get him._

"...Hey." He stepped up to their new teammate—that was what he was, right?—and offered his hand. "My name's Daniel." Of course he knew that already, no matter how much he'd ignored it. But it seemed like the place to start.

A look of surprise greeted the gesture, then a hesitation. Then finally he nodded and shook the offered hand. "I'm Pidge." His voice was very soft.

"So we'd heard." Daniel looked back at the others, watching with varying degrees of skepticism. _That's right. I came back to lead this team; bring on the awkward leadership moments!_ "This is Larmina, Bruno, Imam, and Vince." A glare, two nods, and a slightly sheepish wave accompanied the introductions.

Pidge looked over them, wary but focused, then looked back at Lance. The boss didn't seem at all inclined to bail him out. And finally he... laughed? It was a painful sound, not the least bit humorous. "What am I supposed to say now, it's nice to meet you? Or should I jump right into the apology that won't be anywhere near enough?"

"Might as well get started," Larmina scowled, "you can keep—"

It wasn't Bruno who cut her off, which might have been expected. Imam placed a light hand on her shoulder to silence her, then looked at Pidge. "You must say what you feel you need to say. Your task is to lighten your own burden as best you are able. Our task is to choose whether to forgive once that is done."

He didn't look like he found that very comforting, but nodded. "Then I'm sorry." He paused, averting his eyes again. "...I'm sorry... and I was going to come in here and fall all over myself apologizing for every bit of it, but what's the point?" His low voice was becoming stronger, but colder. "You know what I did. You saw it, you fought it, you _died_ to it. Repeating it now is narcissistic self-flagellation. I didn't come here to lighten my burden, and I didn't come here for your forgiveness." He looked up again, green eyes suddenly flashing, meeting each of their gazes in turn with a look of fierce determination. "I am sorry. Whatever you need me to do to prove that, I will do it. But I know words are useless."

 _...Well then!_

A very long silence fell over the room. How were they supposed to answer that? The look Lance was giving his old teammate was wry and almost affectionate. He supposed that meant Pidge was gonna Pidge. And apparently _that_ meant even when he wasn't insane, he was a bit of an arrogant jerk. On the other hand, he kind of had a point. _What were you expecting him to say? "Hi, sorry I killed you, I brought the popcorn"? Yeah, that would go over great._

He looked back at the others, each looking varying degrees of thoughtful, shocked, and irritated. About in the ratios he would've expected, no less. What he didn't expect was for Vince to be the one who found his voice first. "Sure. I can deal with that. Can you guys deal with that?"

"I can deal with that."

"Indeed, my friend."

"...Fine, sure. If you guys can deal, I can deal."

Daniel grinned at the others and turned back to Pidge. "Well, guess that's settled. We can deal with you! We keep hearing insane idealism is a Voltron Force thing, and all."

"It is," he answered as if by reflex.

"Excellent." _Then maybe nobody will punch me for this_. But it felt right, even if the others probably weren't ready. Hell, he wasn't sure he was ready. And yet it had to be said. "...Want to watch some movies with us?"

He was pretty sure at least two people behind him did indeed want to punch him, judging by the sound of couches squeaking. But it was Pidge taking a step back in shock that he focused on. "...No." His voice was soft again. "I don't think... no. But thank you."

 _He's not ready either._ Daniel tried not to let his relief show as he nodded, stepping back himself. "Maybe another time."

Nod. "Maybe."

That was all they could ask for, wasn't it? They were going to have plenty of time.


	22. Unity

Reawakening  
Chapter 18: Unity

* * *

Vince hadn't decided how he felt about Pidge or his apology, personally. There was so much going on there that was all so freaking _complicated_. So rather than try to puzzle that out at all, he'd decided that as long as there was work left to do, he would just stick to things that were easier than emotion. Facts. Data. Nice, simple things like that.

Whatever else the former Green Lion might be, he was _fascinating_. And that was a fact.

"So you seriously did all this damage just by overclocking the dynotherms?" He was on Voltron's shoulder examining Red Lion's fused interlock, with Pidge on the other side of the joint. "You only had like, less than a minute!"

"Dude, he melted Voltron into a disjointed mess." Leaning over one of the hangar catwalks as he watched the proceedings above, Daniel gave him a quizzical look. "I know he's helping us fix it too, but maybe you don't have to sound quite so _impressed_ by that."

"The dynotherms are incredibly efficient." Pidge ignored both Daniel's reproach and Vince's answering blush. "Forming Voltron is a delicate process, mechanically. But it only takes thirty-six seconds for all the systems involved to achieve that sort of precision. Why would it take more than a few seconds to just melt the interlocks into ruin?"

Yep. Fascinating. And he was clearly trying to be as honest as possible with them—though that could make him creepy at times. Now was one of them. "Yeah, uh, good point. Gonna take a lot more time to reverse that though, huh?"

"A bit, yes." He grimaced. "Quite a bit."

"But it is doable?" Imam stuck his head out of where he'd been examining Yellow's interlock, eyes glowing. "I cannot even see a seam in the metal. Were it not for the structure of the power coils, there would be no sign these two lions were ever meant to separate."

"Oh, it's doable. The interlocks take preset forms, and if we reduce the metal to a liquid state we'll be able to force them back into those forms. It'll just involve overcharging the dynotherms up to levels that may well blow out the infracells, generating an electromagnetic containment field that can overpower the interlocks' own electromagnetic components, probably full destabilization of the resonance matrix for the duration... that sort of thing."

Considering Daniel was still standing there looking mildly disapproving, Vince decided not to voice his immediate reaction. The circumstances sucked, completely and totally. But the actual repair process sounded like it could be fun. "Oh, good. I was afraid it might be complicated." He could hear Daniel and Bruno snickering, and was almost certain he'd even seen a little twitch at one corner of Pidge's mouth. "Why the resonance matrix though? I mean the rest of that makes sense, but—"

"—Holy gods, you guys." Larmina, on the other catwalk, pitched a wrench at them. Mostly at Pidge. He caught it with a bemused look. "Have you considered trying to speak English at some point today?"

Before anyone could answer that, Lance entered the hangar looking uncharacteristically grim. Well, uncharacteristically over the last few days at least. "Hey, guys. Technobabbling time is later. We've got a potential problem."

A bit of a hush swept over the team. "Uh..." _What could possibly have come up now? Already?_ "If we've got another problem incoming, doesn't that mean technobabbling time is basically right now or else?"

"No. Not the Voltron kind of problem. The 'Sky Marshal got a full report from some snitch in the castle and wants to chew our asses for not telling her things' kind of problem."

Oh. Yeah, that... probably shouldn't be surprising actually. The Sky Marshal had seemed pretty formidable. And their parting circumstances had been a little bit iffy.

"Uh." Daniel looked up at Pidge, then down at Lance, then at Voltron itself. "Exactly how full is a full report?"

"That's what we're about to find out. Control. Now. Not you, Pidge—if she doesn't know the whole story we're certainly not going to tell her."

"No arguments there." He still jumped down to the catwalk; there was an unspoken understanding that he was not allowed to be around Voltron by himself. Vince didn't think anyone, even Larmina, still considered him a threat in that regard. It was just the principle of the thing. "Good luck..." He disappeared to wherever it was he spent the rest of his time, and the pilots all turned to Lance.

"...So yeah." He made a face and motioned for them to follow. "My status reports back to the boss lady, when I've bothered to make them, haven't really had the slightest resemblance to truth since Pidge showed up. Who would believe it anyway? I don't even know what she actually knows. Just got a snotty message about needing to explain some reporting discrepancies. Oh, and she wants you guys there too."

"She does know we saved the planet, right?" Larmina snorted. "I mean, you'd think that makes up for a few little reporting glitches."

"You'd think." He paused. "...Guys, this could be real trouble. You've got to understand. There's a reason we didn't tell the Alliance the truth about Galra. A deadly malfunction would be bad enough. The more of what really happened here gets out, the more likely people look at Voltron and just want to lock it up again, and the hell with where they'd be right now without it."

Vince blinked. He supposed that was a fair point—the lions _had_ accidentally turned a pilot into an insane demigod. The same people who'd turned against them so quickly for Corrinton probably wouldn't be interested in hearing what a freak accident all of this had been.

"Then Pidge was correct after all?" Imam asked softly. "That the Alliance fears Voltron."

"Always have. People fear what they don't understand, and nobody can really understand Voltron. Not without being part of it themselves." He sighed. "My team got shoved underground for five years because of an act of sabotage that didn't even hurt anyone. Just out of fear." Pause. "...Well, fear and an evil Sky Marshal, but the point is it didn't take him a whole lot of effort to convince people the lions were too dangerous, fresh off our bringing Zarkon down. People forget quickly."

"So what do we do?" Daniel frowned. "We didn't _die_ for Voltron just to have it locked away as a threat."

"We see how much she knows, and I'll make up the rest as fast as I can. Just play along for now. No matter what I have to throw at her, play along. We'll deal with the rest later. Okay?"

A few weeks ago that wouldn't have been an _okay_ , it would have been an order. From the looks he exchanged with the others, Vince could tell he wasn't the only one who'd noticed. "Works for me."

"Of course, Commander."

"Let's do this."

* * *

Imam was a bit worried as he trailed behind the others into Control. Imperial warships, robeasts, and even an enraged immortal warrior were no match for the power they faced now: human fear and paranoia. Very few humans possessed the healthy detachment that would help make sense of this tragedy. So perhaps they would need to help logic along with lies. So be it. _The truth is that this galaxy needs Voltron, to face monsters the Alliance cannot dream of. Whatever happens,_ that _is the truth we must serve._

Lance keyed up the comms, and within a minute they were greeted by the marble-white face of Sky Marshal Amelia Kasun. "Hello, Boss Lady! Reporting as ordered."

"Commander McClain, Voltron Force." She nodded solemnly. "Congratulations on your victory over the Drule Empire; the Alliance owes you a great debt." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Or so we've been led to believe."

"Sorry, was there something about blowing up a mile-high haggarium zombie that _doesn't_ deserve congratulations?" Daniel asked, just barely loud enough for the comms to pick up. Larmina and Bruno snickered. Imam exchanged shrugs with Vince; it had been a perfectly fair question.

The Sky Marshal shot him an exasperated look. "No, Cadet Allegri, I assure you _that_ feat is more than worthy. What concerns me is the other reports we've received. Reports which don't seem to line up at all with your own updates, Commander."

Lance nodded, taking it in stride. "Okay, well, I'm right here to clear them up for you."

"No doubt." Her expression became deeply skeptical. "You do understand the Castle of Lions still has security monitors?"

Imam and the others exchanged startled looks. That could put a very different angle on all of this. Their commander didn't seem surprised, though. Mostly annoyed. "Oh yeah? I figured that, though I also figured you'd have better things to be doing than using them to second-guess us. My show, remember?"

"I remember, Commander, but that was under the assumption that you would be acting in the service of the Alliance! I only asked the remaining castle staff to keep me up to date... they've sent some very interesting reports back recently. Reports about willful misinformation on your behalf, beginning with the Battle of Galra itself. Reports about one of your own former teammates reappearing and slaughtering civilians. Reports about the Voltron lions, which you assured me repeatedly have no loyalty to any but their own proper pilots, being 'sabotaged'. And reports that the criminal responsible for the destruction of at least two entire cities is now being sheltered in the Castle of Lions itself! Perhaps you'd care to address why you've found it acceptable to keep these details to yourself?"

... _Oh, dear._ That was quite a bit more than they'd been expecting. Even Lance looked startled, then hissed under his breath. "Oh, probably because we knew the truth would result in a lot of bureaucratic posturing and bullshit. Which you're about to prove." His tone only became slightly more respectful when he addressed the Sky Marshal again. "I had my reasons. I'll be happy to explain them."

"There's no need for that at this time; you can explain it all when you get here. From this moment on, the Voltron Force is under suspension pending a full investigation into its operations. To that end you will deliver Pidge Stoker to Earth immediately, to be charged with high treason, war crimes, crimes against civilization, and—"

"—You can stop with the lecture, Sky Marshal. We're not accepting a suspension, and we're not delivering Pidge anywhere."

Kasun's jaw dropped. Literally, which was odd; he'd always thought that was just an expression. "Excuse me, _Commander_. That was an order."

"With the utmost respect, Sky Marshal, you can take your orders and shove 'em."

... _Well then._

"That escalated quickly," Vince muttered, and Imam nodded in wide-eyed agreement.

Obviously Kasun thought so too; she actually glanced around at the cadets as if seeking support, but nobody gave it to her. This certainly wasn't the story they had expected to be playing along with, but they would remain unified regardless. "Commander, in case you think you have some local backing here, the Queen's Council has petitioned and demanded an investigation. You have no authority to refuse this order, and far less to keep a war criminal from accountability."

"Don't you even start on authority and accountability." Lance crossed his arms. "Pidge was right about one thing. You _used_ us. You woke me up, after I gave up a nice happy retirement just to help a future Alliance in its hour of need. You took these kids and threw them at weakened lions you hadn't even tried to fix, lions that were just ancient history to you, and told them to get out there and fight and die on the front lines while your forces sat back and watched. You abandoned us. And as soon as one thing went wrong you turned on us. Now you want us to follow your orders again? Trust you to get it right when you've gotten everything else wrong? Forget it."

"Voltron has always fought alone! That's irrelevant to the issue at hand!" Kasun's eyes blazed; diplomacy was clearly over with now. "You are harboring a mass murderer, McClain! And we have footage of your lions destroying a defenseless civilian settlement. Do you think the people will be amused to hear you'd allow these crimes to go unpunished? Do you think the optics are remotely favorable to you and your _cadets_? Think on that."

"Do you think I care about the optics? We're talking facts, here. And the fact is that the Voltron Force takes care of its own. _All_ of our own, even the one who's been an insane asshole for the better part of four centuries, since obviously nobody _else_ is gonna take care of us." Lance met her anger with barely concealed contempt. "And you can cut with the snotty cadet shaming, too. These cubs've got claws. They saved Arus and the Alliance, with no help from _you_ , and you're thanking them by declaring them guilty until proven innocent. They gave everything they had so you could stand there and be ungrateful about it. Think on THAT!"

"Very well!" There was a dull thud offscreen that Lance suspected was a fist hitting a console. He'd heard that sound a few times in his day. "If we have to send an operations team to enforce these orders, then that's what we'll do. I suggest you consider exactly how dedicated you are to defending the massacre of those you were awakened to protect. Good day, Commander!"

As the comms cut, the team stepped back and shared looks of disbelief. "...Well," Lance said finally. "That's not how I expected that to go."

"No kidding."

"Vince, if you wouldn't mind, knock those security monitors out. I'd like for Big Sister _not_ to be watching us anymore."

With a nod, Vince moved to the main console, and within two minutes offered a thumbs-up. "Done."

"Good." Lance sighed. "Okay, so she knows basically everything. But..." He paused. "...you know, now that I've gone and bitched out the boss lady, that wasn't really my call to make."

Imam tilted his head, mirroring the confused looks from the others. "What do you mean, Commander?"

"I mean I asked you to play along when we thought we just had to make up a story. The fact that she already knows what happened changes everything." He turned to them, eyes serious. "We all know Pidge is guilty as hell. I won't hand him over, I can't. But I can't ask you to protect him, either. If the five of you want to take your chances with an Alliance investigation, when you can tell the truth about what happened to the lions in Corrinton, that's your decision." He took a deep breath. "Voltron is yours now, kids. You've earned it. You decide what to do with it."

Now everyone else's jaws dropped; Imam was pretty sure his did the same. Apparently it was going around today. "Commander..."

"Y... wait what?"

"Are you serious?" Daniel didn't seem quite sure whether to be elated or horrified. "You're leaving this up to _us?"_

A nod. "That's what I said. The two of us can go on the run, you can tell Kasun we just disappeared on you when you said you didn't want to go against the Alliance." He grinned, though he was obviously having to put some effort into it. "We'll be the galaxy's greatest smugglers, mark it."

Smirk. "Of course you would." But the smirk didn't stay in place long. Daniel's violet eyes swept over the rest of the team, then he looked back up at Lance. "...Give us some time to talk it over."

* * *

They gathered in the rec room as usual, all still in a bit of shock. Daniel paced around the table while everyone else settled in, mostly because he wasn't sure he could sit still right now if he tried. He was still reeling.

 _Voltron is yours now, kids. You've earned it._

It was supposed to be a dream come true. And like every other dream he'd had come true around here, it came with a whole heaping side order of crazy. But much like every other bit of crazy they'd run into, he fully intended to get through it... with his team.

"Not gonna lie to you guys." He stopped pacing. "Pidge or no Pidge, I don't feel too great about cutting Lance loose. I don't care if he would be the greatest smuggler in the galaxy." _Which he totally would._ "We kind of owe him. And I mean, he did just yell at the boss lady that the Voltron Force takes care of its own."

"Yeah, but I think he considers _letting_ us cut him loose to be taking care of us, since he won't hand that bastard to the Alliance," Larmina scowled. "I get why he wouldn't let us kill him, but I don't get protecting him from a trial. Not one bit."

Imam spoke slowly, obviously feeling his way. "It would seem to serve justice to turn him in, yes. But the Commander was also correct. The Alliance does not act in good faith. They are treating Voltron as a weapon of convenience, when we know it is far more." His eyes flickered. "I do not think the two elements can be separated so easily; what happened to our former foe proves the depths of Voltron's bonds. These are matters of great complexity which the Sky Marshal seems to believe she can make simple."

"Seriously." _That_ had pissed him off real good. "Where the hell does she get off dictating like that? 'Oh hey, thanks for saving the galaxy, now shut up and let me browbeat you over things I don't know anything about'? Doesn't give me a whole lot of confidence that we'd get a fair hearing, even if we told the truth _and_ handed her Pidge on a silver platter."

"That's for sure," Vince agreed. "Besides... I don't think I like him much, even if I could talk shop with him for hours. But what can the Alliance do to him, really? They can kill him, which is still giving him what he's wanted all along. Or they can lock him up for the rest of his life..." He looked away and shook his head. "...when being isolated and alone for so long is what sent him off the deep end in the first place. I'm not big on execution, but I'm even less big on torture. At least with us he's making himself useful."

"Yes. He's not going unpunished. He works to atone for his crimes every day. He faces them every time he looks at us. Or at Voltron. The Alliance does not seek justice." Bruno looked grim. "They seek vengeance."

Larmina looked around, obviously unconvinced. Then she sank into the couch and sighed. "I don't want anything to _do_ with him. This is my planet! It's my people he was killing on his stupid crusade! But... it is complicated, right?" Her eyes lifted to the ceiling. "My people don't care why our lions did what they did, and it sucks. But here I'm kind of doing the same thing to him, huh?"

"Kind of."

She lowered her eyes. "...I still don't have to like it, or him. But I'm in this with the rest of you. If we're going to put up with him to stick with Lance and protect Voltron, I'm game." She gave a slightly bitter laugh. "Not like I really have anything else keeping me here."

 _Anything else keeping her here._ Daniel's eyes narrowed slightly at the phrasing. "And there's the next question. What are we gonna do, exactly? I mean, attacking whatever troops the Alliance sends to arrest us seems like it would kind of be counterproductive. What other options are there?"

"I can only see two." Imam shifted uncomfortably. "The castle is hardened against attack, as we have seen. We can remain here for some time. Force the Alliance to lay siege and cast themselves as the aggressors, and hope the people will refuse to support such drastic measures."

Next to him, Vince shook his head. "If Kasun's willing to use the Corrinton footage against us, there's no way the public will see anything but a justified attack on a rogue unit."

"Yes. I suspected as much." Sigh. "Then the other choice, I think, is what the commander himself suggested. We must flee."

From the hush that settled in over the room, Daniel was pretty sure they'd all known that was coming. It wasn't surprise. Just a grim acknowledgment of the fact.

"...Yeah." He looked over the others. "That's the best way to avoid trouble, right? Move faster. Be gone by the time trouble gets to you." He tried for a confident grin. "We can do that."

"We can't just run from the castle, though. Probably not just even Arus, depending how badly she wants to get us." Vince picked nervously at the upholstery of his chair. "We might have to leave Alliance space altogether. Who knows if we'll be able to come back, or when? Is that something we're willing to do? Give up our whole lives for this?"

"We did just die for it," Daniel pointed out. It was kind of hard to get around that detail.

"Okay, there's that."

He took a minute to gather his own thoughts, since nobody else was speaking up. Yes, they'd died for this, and maybe that meant even more than they'd realized. "Maybe we already gave up our old lives. We came back for Voltron, didn't we? I know I did." A blush sprang to his cheeks. "I came back because the team needs a Black Lion, and a Black Lion needs a team."

 _And that really is the only reason, isn't it?_

For a moment his thoughts drifted to his own parents. Since coming back he hadn't written to them even once. Oh, he'd thought about it. But what was the point? They hadn't even believed him about flying Black, what was he going to tell them? _I died for awhile, but I got better? Yeah, right_. It wasn't that he didn't like them, despite the total lack of confidence... but he'd already left them. They weren't the family he'd come back for.

"Sure. That works for me. Like I said, I don't have anything else keeping me here." Larmina lowered her eyes. "Not really what I expected would happen after Queen Allura told me to keep bringing pride to Arus, but..."

"There is pride in the truth, is there not? If I may say so, I suspect the great Queen will be very proud indeed if you give up so much in the name of Voltron. After all, it is the same Defender she herself once championed, and a warrior who was once her brother in arms who has been the catalyst for this." Imam's eyes dimmed. "As for myself, I left my people and my family when I first came to the Academy, knowing my quest might lead me to all ends of the galaxy. Whatever path we must follow now, I am prepared."

For a minute Vince just stared at the floor, but when he raised his eyes the familiar energy sparked there. "Yeah. You guys are right. I mean, I'm probably the last person who should question sticking with Voltron, huh?" He sighed. "It's scary to think about, leaving everything behind. But hey, the last Red Lion pilot did it." A wry grin spread over his face; he did have a point. "This is where I was always meant to be. With this team. Wherever that ends up being, I'm there."

Through all this Bruno had remained silent. That surprised Daniel a little, and the troubled expression on the Green Lion pilot's face even more so. "Catman? What's on your mind?"

He shook his head. "This should be easy. I want to go. But my people..." Crossing his arms across his knees he hunched over on the couch, growling in frustration. "I'm supposed to be the champion of my people. A beacon. It never sat well with me. But it's why I stayed at the Academy long enough to be part of this team at all. I have a duty to them. How can I run?"

...Oh. Daniel wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Neither was nearly anyone else, but then Larmina tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. "It's hard that way… but Imam's right too, you know? We aren't doing what's easy, we're doing what's right. If the rest of your people are anything like you, I can't believe they wouldn't understand that."

"Yeah." That seemed like a decent place to jump in. "It's not like we necessarily have to vanish without a trace, right? You can explain to them why you have to go. It's just... a really long deployment or something." That was probably as good a way to look at it as any. It wasn't like any of them had been expecting to go into the military just to sit around at home. This was just a very _final_ type of deployment.

"I suppose that's true." Bruno was quiet for a few moments, then nodded. "Yes. You're right. What's important is to be a beacon of justice. Not obedience. I believe they'll understand."

"Then there remains only one question, though a quite important one." Rather than looking at his teammates Imam was turning over Yellow's key in his hands. "Is this path even possible? To remove the lions from their dens indefinitely?"

...And that was a pretty good question too. But some instinct gave Daniel an answer. "It has to be. Voltron's the Defender of the Universe, not the Defender of Arus." He looked at Larmina. "Uh, no offense, Arus is nice and all."

She waved it off. "I'm not feeling super charitable about that right now, not gonna lie. And I think you're right, anyway."

"Yeah. I mean, Voltron can't really be locked down here, can it? Five different planets were part of building it." Vince shrugged. "Lance and Pidge would probably know."

That was true. Really, if they were committed to running, it was probably time to go tell the people they were running for. _No, running with. We're all in this together now. We're the Voltron Force... and we're all we've got._

"Then let's go find out."

* * *

When he wasn't in the hangar, Pidge had taken to slipping out onto one of the castle's observation decks. One that had once been his favorite, an isolated place to escape and catch his breath in the midst of war. Now it was still an escape, from the suspicious looks that surrounded him. He knew he'd richly earned such suspicion from the new Force, but it was a bit more grating from the castle staff. They knew nothing. He couldn't blame them for that, but even so...

He sat quietly on the small balcony, bathed in sunlight. It had been a long time since he could enjoy such simple things. It was still difficult to do so, for entirely different reasons now. But he was trying.

Footsteps from behind him caught his attention. Not a great surprise. Lance knew about his little sanctuary. But this sounded like several people... turning, he saw one old pilot with five new pilots trailing behind him. That was different. They all appeared varying degrees of worried and outright surly. "Hey. Mind if we join you?"

It wasn't like he had any right to say no to that, though he truly wouldn't mind the company. Lance's presence was comforting, even when he was glaring—he was _there_. Even the cubs weren't completely objectionable. "By all means. How did it go with the Sky Marshal?" No doubt that was why they were really here, and their expressions answered him already. Badly.

"She knows." The cubs fanned out and found seats as their commander spoke. "She knows everything, or at least close enough to everything." Lance's eyes met his. "She wants the Force investigated and you on trial, and she's been informed exactly where she can put both of those demands."

 _...Did_ not _see that coming._ He looked around at the new pilots, more than a little surprised to see them all apparently in agreement on the matter. This was insane. Why would they investigate the Force? For the lions being hijacked out from under them, for trying to cover up what he'd done? "You don't need to protect me," he said quietly. "I deserve to face trial."

"Yeah, you probably do. But what you _don't_ deserve, and what Voltron doesn't deserve, is to have your personal hell splashed all over the tabloids for the next five years while some Alliance bigwigs strut around pretending they had anything to do with saving their own bacon. You're still doing your time, and you're doing it with _us_ , so stop hating yourself for a minute and help us make a plan."

Despite himself, Pidge cracked a grin. _No, he really hasn't changed a bit_. _Always so compassionate._ Then the rest of that hit. "Wait, what kind of plan?"

"A 'how to take your giant combining robot made of demigod lions with you when you become intergalactic fugitives' kind of plan."

 _...Of course! Why_ didn't _I see that coming?_ Looking around, he saw the cubs still looking completely on board with this. "That seems excessive?"

"You have any better ideas?" Larmina demanded, with a glare that still didn't seem quite as venomous as her usual glares. "And for the record, going to war with the Alliance isn't a better idea."

"Wasn't about to suggest that," he protested halfheartedly. Indignation was not really something he experienced these days. But he was trying to make an effort at normality, so... "'Kill the annoying things and sort it out later' is actually more Lance's default position."

"Does kind of sound tempting right now," he grumbled, drawing an equal array of snickers and startled looks from the other pilots.

If they were determined to escape the Alliance's jurisdiction, they might have a point. He understood what Lance was really saying about the trial, too. This _wasn't_ to protect him. Not exactly. This was to protect the secrets of Voltron he'd inadvertently blown wide open, and another pang of guilt shot through him before he steeled himself. _Maybe this was inevitable._ Voltron had existed before the Alliance, and he'd place bets that it would outlive the Alliance as well. The lions held no loyalty to this political institution that purported to own them. _The breaking point had to come sooner or later._

"...Okay. What do you need to know?"

"Pretty much everything," Daniel admitted with a sheepish little laugh. "We kind of decided we'd better come find you two before hammering out the details. Can Voltron actually even be moved? I mean, with the dens being here and all."

Pidge exchanged a quick look with Lance, who nodded. They'd learned some things in their time. "There's no reason we shouldn't be able to." He frowned. "The power of the dens is complicated. But it's inherent to Voltron, not Arus. A resonance with their surroundings, almost. These dens have become very powerful over time, but I can't think of any reason new ones couldn't be built."

"It would make sense." Bruno closed his eyes. "The lions bear the power of the elements. Storm. Flame. Wind. Water. Earth. Without the elements there can be no life. They're anything but restricted to Arus."

"Yes. Every world has its places of spiritual power." Imam was leaning against the railing. "We need simply find locations that would be... receptive, then?"

"Basically." He couldn't speak with perfect confidence. Even he had hardly learned everything about Voltron. But he was also pretty certain the lions would have objected before the cubs ever brought this idea to their predecessors, if it weren't possible. And he was _quite_ certain Green Lion's presence would have asserted itself to tell him the same thing.

Lance was pacing. "Okay. Next logistical point: Kasun is coming for us. Well, more like she's sending minions for us, but anyway. Anyone think she's going to just roll over and shrug it off when we aren't here to arrest? She'll smear us so hard it'll make Wade look like a screaming fanboy." He chuckled darkly. "And I, in the words of a great ancient Terran philosopher, don't give a damn about my bad reputation... and I'm kind of assuming since you kids had this idea you don't either. But it'll make it a little trickier to find somebody who'll take us."

"Wait." Larmina drew one knee to her chest, suddenly looking troubled. More troubled, rather. "If she does that, I mean, I like the sound of Lance's ancient philosopher. But what about Voltron itself? We're not running to keep it safe for the sake of keeping it safe, right? The Alliance will _need_ the lions again someday."

That detail clearly hadn't occurred to the cubs yet. Daniel frowned. "Voltron isn't the Defender of the Alliance, either."

"Well, no..." Pause. "...but as much as they're kind of being jerks right now these _are_ still my people."

"She does have a point. The people, by and large, cannot understand Voltron. Especially when the Sky Marshal is not inclined to treat us fairly. But they are not at fault for that, either. Wherever we go, we must remain ready to defend the innocent. Even the innocent who have turned on us."

Lance nodded. "Been there before. But we learned something there too, right Pidge?" His eyes narrowed. "Voltron defends itself, too. Even when you think the whole galaxy is against you... the legend never quite dies. Even if it just leaves one little ember behind, that's all it needs."

 _No matter how thoroughly it's driven underground, that legend always endures..._ remembering his own words to Serek, Pidge nodded also. They knew it. They'd learned it from Wade. And he'd kept learning it, lurking in the dark corners of the galaxy for three and a half centuries. "He's right."

"Of course." Vince's eyes sparked. "There'll always be people who remember and believe. We put our story out there... we feed our side to whoever will listen to it fairly. Tell them what we did, why we did it, and why we've left. Let them keep it alive underground. If Voltron has to return someday, that legend will still be there. Waiting."

"Damn straight." Daniel grinned. "Someone'll keep the faith."

"Yes. There _are_ those who will hear the truth. Who'll favor justice over fear."

"Indeed."

"Sure, I'll buy that."

"Okay, then that's settled." Lance studied the cubs. "So that brings us back to the previous question. Where do we go? I'd offer some ideas but, you know, three hundred years of political evolution means they're all probably bad."

"My people would gladly shelter us once they know the truth. I'm sure of it." Bruno frowned. "But we would be very conspicuous on Ailouros."

"Yeah, probably. We could always go out and find our own planet. Name it Voltronix or something."

"...Get real, dude."

"What about the Tetatae? I've heard they practically worship robots, they'd definitely at least hear us out."

"Is that truly something we want to take advantage of? Manipulating the religion of a primitive race?"

"I didn't exactly mean it like that, just..."

As the cubs debated, Pidge closed his eyes and tuned them out, his thoughts going elsewhere. Back to other words that had been spoken when he'd been in Kargil's service, though he hadn't been the one speaking these.

 _There are more like me, Lord Zeliax. Maybe not here, but on the homeworlds_.

It would be perfect, wouldn't it? Nothing could be further from the Alliance's reach. Frankly, nothing could be further from the Alliance's imagining. And just as importantly, at least for him... he owed the young prince who'd saved him, owed him so much. That foolish pawn he could now acknowledge as one glimmer of warmth in the cold and dark world he'd trapped himself in. If his dying wish could be achieved after all...

 _This is for you, Serek. I_ will _pay my debts._

Pidge opened his eyes, speaking softly but firmly into a momentary silence. "You're all going to think I'm insane... still. But I have an idea that just might work."

* * *

Preparation was surprisingly easy, despite the shadow of the incoming Alliance troops hanging over them. It was a three day trip from Earth to Arus, which was hardly enough time to pack up for a whole new life... or was it? Lance didn't exactly have a whole lot to take with him. The kids had whatever they'd been able to cram into their tiny Academy dorms, which was also not much. Vince had muttered something about swinging by home to pick up Gary, whatever that meant, but from the reaction of the other kids it had probably been a joke.

On the other hand, the Technomancer homeworld of Arcus _was_ directly on their way to their ultimate destination. If they got off to a good enough head start, why not drop by? Maybe they could swing some support from his people. Every little bit helped. So he'd set a departure time that gave them a solid thirty hour head start. Just to prove there wasn't really that much reason to hang around, most of the team actually showed up in Control early.

One person didn't, but he knew exactly where to look. Pidge was in the crypts again. "Hey. You about ready to go?"

Three and a half centuries later, that _are-you-kidding-me_ look was as familiar as the day they'd first landed on Arus. "What's not to be ready for? Not like I have to pack either." He tugged the sleeve of his borrowed uniform, grimacing, then returned his attention to the tombs. "But... maybe I'm not."

Lance nodded. He understood what went unspoken there; it had been on his mind too. "They'll be alright here, Pidge."

"Will they?"

"Kasun's an officious bitch, but she's a straight shooter. I don't really get the impression she'd go around desecrating the corpses of past heroes just because she's pissed at us."

"Who knows what she'd do to bait us?" Sigh. "It's... it's what I would do... at least use them as leverage..." A shudder ran through him for a moment, eyes clouding with the memory of his own ruthlessness. "...And I know it doesn't really matter that much. Their spirits aren't here, they _are_ going with us. With the lions. But even so."

"Even so," Lance agreed. He really didn't think Kasun would stoop that low—but she was only one person. If Voltron's memory were shamed badly enough, there were plenty of other idiots in the universe. "Maybe we could seal this room off somehow? You're the engineer."

Pidge thought for a minute. "No, the room can't be sealed. The construction down here is too old and delicate. We could close it up, but it wouldn't stop anyone with so much as a little determination and a pickaxe from breaking through. But..." He paused, eyes narrowing. "We could seal the castle away completely. Evacuate the staff, take what supplies we can, and bury the whole thing."

...Sometimes it _had_ been kind of hard to figure out which of the team engineers was the crazy one. "Dude. I'd ask you if you're serious, but I learned my lesson about that a long, long time ago. I'd ask if you're insane, but I also learned my lesson about _that_ , plus it's not as funny anymore. So let me just settle on, did you really just suggest we bury the entire damn Castle of Lions?"

"Yes. Voltron's perfectly capable, through Yellow Lion. And it's the only way we can ensure the crypts remain safe. Not to mention the castle itself." He looked around the room. "This castle was ours, this castle was _Voltron's_. It doesn't seem right to let them turn it into some ordinary military base. It doesn't seem right to just hand it over as if they earned it somehow."

He had a point there. Even the sprawl of the training facility had felt somehow wrong, like a desecration of what had once been home. And honestly, the thought of depriving Kasun of the castle tech felt good right now. Petty, but good. _We're allowed to be a little petty when she's chasing us out of the Alliance, right? Right!_

"Okay." He nodded. "That'll push our departure back a bit, but hey, we left ourselves extra time. We're good like that." He took another look at the tombs, grimacing. As long as he hadn't actually had to come see them again, he probably could have managed to leave without fighting any tears. As it was, well, these damn crypts were so _dusty_. Yeah, that was his story. All this dust. "Let's... let's go get everyone out of here, huh?" He headed for then door as quickly as he could without actually running.

"...Wait." Pidge stopped in the doorway and turned, his eyes falling on his own empty tomb. And slowly, hesitantly, he slipped his voltcom from his wrist.

So much for trying to get out of here quickly. Lance watched, a bit concerned. "Pidge?"

"I can't just..." He shook his head, stepping forward, blinking back tears of his own. "...this... this is how it was supposed to be, Lance! All of us together." He pressed the band of black steel into his tomb's indentation, a low _click_ of finality echoing over the room.

Burying a piece of himself with them.

 _He's right, you know. This is how it was supposed to be. That's why you hate leaving so much, isn't it? It's not because of where their bodies are. It's because of where yours_ won't _be, where it belonged..._

But maybe his answer was the right one, too. Something warm stirred in Lance's blood, looking at Pidge's voltcom finally in its place. That empty slot had always hurt. A reminder of how they'd failed to bring him home, even when they had no idea what they'd truly missed. Nodding, he approached the ruby-edged tomb again, unfastening his own voltcom and drawing a shaky breath.

It _hurt_. It was a physical ache deep within his chest, protesting as he pressed the voltcom back into its slot, but he fought it. This was right. These voltcoms had been their tie to their own team, the old Force. Those who lay buried here forever. Where they were going now, whatever came next, that old Force was no more. A treasured memory that deserved to be laid to rest.

Leaving nothing behind really _would_ be like abandoning them.

"...Okay." His breath came out in a shallow rush as the voltcom clicked, its soft light dimming. "We... we should go now. While I can still convince my legs to move." He retreated to the door with Pidge on his heels, looking back over the five tombs. Saluting his team one last time. "Goodbye, guys..."

 _We'll be seeing you sooner or later._

As they closed the door behind them, Pidge reached up and grabbed Lance's shoulders, pulling him down a little and into a fierce hug. Almost a death grip. He yelped, startled and more than slightly disgruntled—that was the sort of move he'd usually expect to punch someone in the face for, solely to keep his reputation intact. But then again, how could he? Right now? He needed it, if he were perfectly honest. They both needed it. So he returned the hug for a long moment. Just holding on. And then they both broke it at once, looking anywhere but at each other as they made their way out of the catacombs.

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them needed to.

It was time to go.

* * *

Avernoth was the capital of the Drule Empire: a world black with rich soil and dark waters, shadowed by perpetual overcast. It was not the most cheerful planet, true, but it sustained a thriving population which was currently in leaderless chaos.

Kargil had failed. That much was known. A few strange, scattered transmissions from the fleet had indicated a mysterious advisor taking over after the emperor's death, a death brought on by the hated haggarium. There were whispers that the prince had perished, either by the advisor's hand or by his own. Uncertain reports of natural disasters on Arus. And then, finally, silence.

The silence had lasted far too long...

When word finally returned to Avernoth of their warfleet's fate, silence suddenly seemed to be the least of their worries. A new star sparked in the clouded sky, picked up by orbital monitors on its final approach. A powerful star, bearing down on the cradle of Drule civilization, headed directly for the Imperial Palace.

For the first time in one thousand years of contact, humans had come to the Empire.

 _Voltron_ had come to the Empire.

The panic was immediate and intense as the great metal knight landed before the palace, standing in an empty plaza and surveying its surroundings. Not a great start, but about what they'd expected. Sitting in Black Lion's jump seat, Lance took a deep breath before opening the external comms, and couldn't help the faint grin that crossed his face. How many ridiculous B-movies was he about to validate with these words?

 _Whatever works. Let's do this._

"We come in peace..."


	23. Homecoming

Reawakening  
Epilogue: Homecoming

 _And just wrapping things up a little...  
_ _Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed!_

* * *

History always repeated itself...

The Empire had been watching. Waiting patiently. Planning for the perfect moment. And when that moment came, when the Alliance was at its weakest, they struck with the mightiest weapon ever commanded by Drule hands.

The weakness of the Alliance was really their own fault. They'd chosen their President poorly, and he'd become a genocidal madman, intent on purging those he found unworthy from the ranks. The proper military was decimated, replaced by an army of brainwashed cyborgs that answered only to their master's commands. Hundreds of millions were dead, and hope had all but vanished.

Until a great metal knight appeared in Earth's skies, and five lions roared a challenge to the usurper. Legends always endured...

For the first time in a thousand years, Voltron stepped forward to defend the Alliance.

The Ailurians were the first to raise their weapons in support of Voltron. Charging into battle in the name of an ancient legend, a long-lost beacon of their people, they rallied other pockets of resistance. From Arcus, the Neo-Luxites broke free of their self-imposed exile, shattering the mechanized legions in waves of silver light. On nearly every world at least a handful of rebels struck, driving the soulless armies to their knees. And as the Alliance awakened to shake off its tyranny, the lions laid siege to the usurper's impenetrable fortress.

Perhaps not so impenetrable after all...

They tossed the body of the President out of the rubble for all to see. Five warriors emerging to stand before the ragged remnants of the Alliance, the few who'd managed to escape the mad purges. And finally the leader stepped forward. A young Drule woman with dark skin and violet eyes, the same violet as her own distant ancestor. The one who'd flown her lion, one thousand years ago.

"In the name of the Precursors and the Redeemers... we come to you in peace."

* * *

Arus was a wasteland. It had been one of the first planets to crumble beneath the Alliance's corruption, as the President searched each of the ancient lions' dens for the secret that had vanished so long ago. The people had fought back, some pride in their world's legend resurfacing, only to be slaughtered like animals. One more world destroyed for its connection to Voltron.

One more sacrifice, for the safety of the universe.

The only thing left alive on the planet now was the Honor Guard. A company of Ghostwalker warriors, maintained there for a thousand years; even _they_ didn't fully know why they protected this place anymore. They knew only that Mount Panthera was sacred, and none could be permitted to breach its sanctity. But when Voltron landed before the mountain, the Ghostwalkers bowed and allowed it to pass.

And the mountain cracked open, revealing one last ghost of the past: the Castle of Lions all but untouched by time.

They filed into the crypts silently, their heads bowed in reverence. The five had only heard rumors of this place, this sacred shrine... of course they'd seen one very similar. The Citadel of Lions on Avernoth, where the Voltron Force had come to the Empire and offered them life and peace. That first Force was forever known as the Redeemers. They had been interred in the Citadel when they passed, to be eternally honored for their wisdom and sacrifice.

But this? This was the resting place of the Precursors.

Three of them, anyway.

The two urns were borne by their distant successors. The Red and Green Lions, who had traveled so far through space and time... heroes who'd been stripped of their rightful resting place until this moment. No longer. The legend was finally fulfilled... and now, at long last, these ashes had returned home.


End file.
